Death By Degrees
by MadroxMR
Summary: An unexpected visitor to school triggers a domino effect. Secrets are revealed. Tony learns a new definition of evil. And not everybody wants to be saved. Now rated 'M' for dark content. A Gene/Tony friendship fic.
1. Pepper's Plan

**A/N: **A few short notes about this story. First off, there are no real pairings here. Sorry, Pepper/Tony fans. Secondly, the focus is mainly on Gene, then Tony; Rhodey and Pepper have roles, but they are mainly on the sidelines. (Gene just does not get enough fan fiction love.) Thirdly, despite the fact that the first few chapters seem light and humorous, the story itself mainly flows towards the dark side. And finally, there are some mild slashy overtones in places, mostly for humorous or dramatic effect. Before you get all excited, either positively or negatively, remember the first note: no pairings. Still, if such things really bother you, run while you can.

Be forewarned that I live in the U.S. and haven't seen as many episodes as our northern neighbors. **Spoilers** up to "Ready, A.I.M. Fire". Plot-wise it is obviously A.U. after that.

**Rating: **I'm giving this one a "T" for now. Later the rating will be raised to"M" for descriptions of abuse/child abuse, mentions of rape, one f-bomb and a hint of slashy-type behavior. It'll probably be rated strongly for the actual content, but given that this category most likely attracts a lot of younger readers, better safe than sorry.

**Disclaimer: **Iron Man: Armored Adventures, its characters and properties, are owned by Marvel Comics and is distributed in the U.S. by Nicktoons Network. I own nothing but the story idea. This remains true for this chapter and every consecutive chapter that follows.

**Chapter one:**

The end of the period bell had hardly stopped ringing before Tony Stark's POD began beeping at him. His best friends and co-conspirators exchanged a knowing glance behind his back as he pulled the electronic device from his pocket, grumbling a bit under his breath as he did so. They exited the class, merging with the flood of migrating Tomorrow Academy kids; the POD beeps barely audible over the drone of voices and slams of locker doors.

Pepper exchanged another glance with Rhodey. "So…," she said in her best off-hand casual voice. "Is it _her_?"

"She wants to meet for lunch on the roof, away from all the 'commoners", Tony sighed. "I guess that's not _so_ bad."

"Yeah, along with meeting after school, at the locker between classes, in the lab during free period, outside the bathroom… she's just giving you all kinds of space, isn't she?" Rhodey nudged his best friend with his elbow as the trio cut across the lunch room. By non-verbal mutual consent, they had started taking roundabout ways to their destinations in hopes of avoiding Whitney between classes. It usually didn't work; for a new student Whitney was remarkably well acclimated to her environment. Unfortunately, she also seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Tony and his whereabouts.

"Commoners? What does she mean, commoners? Is she a Princess now? Little Miss Princess Diva Smarmy-pants…" Pepper stopped mid-rant as both Tony and Rhodey turned to look at her. "Oh. Did I say that out loud?" She coughed slightly.

Tony forgave her with an easy smile. He ran his hand through his short-cropped brown hair. "Look," he soothed, "I know Whitney can be a bit… overbearing at times. But just remember…"

"She's new, Obadiah Stane isn't in line for the 'Father of the Year' award, and you guys go way back," Rhodey completed his sentence for him. "We know, we know." They had finally arrived at his locker. Rhodey spun the dial expertly as he continued the conversation. "But if you really feel that way, why are we taking the long route to all of our classes? I was late to history yesterday and you know that's my favorite subject."

Tony Stark shrugged casually. School wasn't nearly as important to him as it was to his friends, but he was well aware of his best friend's love affair with history. "I don't know… I don't mind being her friend and all, but it's starting to creep me out a little. In the hallways and the lab is bad enough, but when she started showing up outside the boy's room…" Unable to finish the thought, the sixteen year old shuddered. "I just don't know what she _wants _from me."

"Well, _duh_. She wants to be your girlfriend. What do you think she wants?" Pepper Potts snorted and rolled her eyes as Tony eyed her in disbelief. For a super genius, he could be really, really dense sometimes, Pepper mused. Frustrating was not the word for it. In fact, Pepper didn't have a word for it. Well, she probably did, several of them in fact, but it's not like she could think of them now, when he was staring at her like she had grown a second head or something.

"Girlfriend," Tony repeated incredulously. "No way. You've come up with some crackpot theories before, but this is… I mean…" A look akin to panic crept into his blue eyes. "Um, help me out here, Rhodey."

James Rhodes shut his locker door and shrugged, trying without much success to keep the humor out of his expression. "As much as I hate to agree with Pepper, I think she's right."

Defeated, Tony slumped against the cool metal. The hallway din was starting to quiet; a tiny part of his still functioning mind noted that he was probably going to be late again. "I can't have a girlfriend, what with school and Stane and doing Happy's homework on top of my own and… you know…" He gave a vague gesture that encompassed his high-tech armor wearing, crime fighting pastime.

The red-headed girl frowned, one hand planted on her hip. "Tony, _you_ don't do your homework, _we_ do. And Happy's too; at least most of the time. And besides, this is an easy problem to solve."

The sixteen year old Stark heir went from abashed to hopeful in a blink of an eye. "It is?"

"Of course. All you have to do is let her know you're off the market. You know, "taken". And I'll bet she totally backs off."

"But Pepper, it's not just Whitney. I don't have time for anyone to be my girlfriend right now. And I don't want to lead anyone on."

The girl gave an impatient snort. The close-knit group had resumed walking, rapidly approaching the hallway intersection where they'd have to go their separate ways. "I didn't mean for _real_, Tony," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Just pick a friend, one who'll understand you're not serious, and let Whitney see you together a couple of times. Once she understands there's no chance, she'll find someone else to bother."

"Or you could try honesty. That might be a novel approach," Rhodey muttered sarcastically. Pepper rewarded him with a sharp elbow to his side. She could feel a freckle vanishing blush start to spread across her cheeks; curse her fair skin. Thankfully they had just reached the split up point.

The bell rang. Rhodey gave a disheartened groan. "Later," he said with a backwards wave as he started jogging down the now mostly empty hall.

"Later," Tony replied absentmindedly. "Hey, Pepper, thanks. I'll think about what you said."

The red-head nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her cheeks still burned at her own audacity. Thankfully Tony said nothing about them, which was nice. Unless he was being oblivious again; sometimes it was hard to tell.

Breaking into a rapid trot towards her own class, Pepper felt a burst of euphoria. Not that she _liked _Tony; of course not. Just because he was nice and had nifty inventions and a penchant for attracting danger and trouble that she found absolutely irresistible… Pepper shook her head as her brain started meandering down the wrong path. But she did like Tony; in that he was her friend and all, and Whitney was _so_ bad news. Pepper tried to suppress a smirk when she pictured the look on the blond bombshell's face when Tony came around and enacted her plan.

_Later that day…_

Gene Khan pushed his book into his locker, his face a studied expression of neutrality. He hated this place. Around him the hallway teemed with driveling teenagers gregariously discussing their petty, insignificant lives. A group of girls walked past; one leaned into her friends and whispered something; they all broke out into giggles. Like turkeys in a pen; one gobbled and they all gobbled. Gene's eye twitched in irritation, pretty sure _he _was the subject of the twittering girls' humor.

He snagged a couple of new books and flipped through his drama class notes absentmindedly, waiting for the crowded halls to thin out a bit before attempting to proceed to class. Gene liked his personal space; nothing grated on his nerves more than having a bunch of hygienically challenged bodies brush by him on the way to and from his lessons. Luckily, he had long ago mastered the fine art of subtly repelling people: he kept his eyes hidden behind tinted shades, he gave curt answers to people he didn't want to talk to, and his entire body projected a 'keep away or I'll hurt you' message that was generally effective.

Gene's ribs gave a twinge where Happy Hogan had given him a 'playful' elbow last period, reminding him that his methods were not entirely successful. Of _course _the hulking jock would be immune; this was the third bruise the dim-witted behemoth had given him since he started here.

The last heir of Khan sighed and placed a hand briefly on his chest; reminding himself of why he was doing this. His birthright, the Makluan rings; and Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, the only person Gene knew of who had done actual research on the rings themselves. Pity he hadn't had the opportunity to meet the late, great C.E.O. of Stark International before he died; if his son was any indication, Howard would have gladly taken him by the hand and led him to the remaining rings.

Still, as a runner-up dupe, Tony wasn't half bad. He certainly couldn't have hoped for a more amiable and trusting person to take advantage of. All it had taken to insinuate himself into Tony's life was to enroll at the Tomorrow Academy. A little bit of patience, some well timed nonchalance at the beginning and he was in. Not quite a part of Tony's inner circle, but close enough for his purposes. Putting up with a few school time inconveniences was a small price to pay for the power he stood to gain when the Stark boy blithely led him to the objects of his desire.

Gene sighed and let his hand drop. The problem was, he was starting to feel just a tiny bit guilty about his duplicity. It was Stark's fault, entirely. He didn't _have _to be so gullible and naïve. Gene could have dealt with a touch more suspicion and doubt; it would have made him feel less like a mugger taking advantage of an eighty-five year old blind woman… in a wheelchair.

Tony was just remarkably innocent for the son of a successful business entrepreneur. Lying to him made Gene feel too much like Zhang, and he wanted to be _nothing_ like his stepfather. At least his methods were less cruel. Zhang probably would have locked the boy up, tortured him until he was satisfied he had all the information Stark knew about the rings and then disposed of him.

Zhang always favored the direct approach, the method that catered to his need to feel powerful and in control. Typical of an usurper, really. Never mind that his methods never would have netted him the result Gene's more subtle approach had: a second activated ring. Yes, Tony was definitely better off with Gene as a faux friend than Zhang as an actual enemy. Funny how that fact did nothing to assuage Gene's guilt though.

It annoyed him; he didn't understand it. Why should he feel bad for attempting to reclaim his birthright? Why should fooling Stark bother him at all?

It was Stark's own fault; the rich boy should know better than to trust people; Gene certainly did. It was one of his life's earliest lessons; having faith in people, depending on others; those were the acts of a weak-minded fool. And Gene Khan was nobody's fool. He was being soft and silly for even thinking about Stark as anything other than a tool to be used. And guilt was the biggest waste of time. What good would it do him to contemplate it; he had no choice if he was to fulfill his destiny.

He would use Stark until all the Makluan rings were found and activated. Tony would get to chase his father's dream, and learn a valuable lesson about not accepting at face value the motivations of helpful strangers; a lesson that would doubtlessly serve him well as a future business man. All in all, a fair exchange. More than fair, really, when Gene factored in the fact that he had to put up with Potts, Rhodes, and the Tomorrow Academy too.

His thoughts run full circle, Gene noticed that the hall was now fairly quiet. He had been lost in his musings for too long. Tucking his notes away and shifting the weight of his books to one arm, he shut his locker door. Only two more periods to go; anyone could survive that.

There was a screech as a pair of sneakers skidded around a nearby corner. A flash of red and blue and Gene instantly recognized the rapidly approaching student.

_Well, well, think of the devil and he shall appear. _

Except something was wrong. Tony's face had a look of panic to it; he kept glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting pursuit. When his blue eyes lit upon Gene they flared with hope. He came to an abrupt stop in front of the taller boy.

"Stark, what…?"

Nervous blue eyes darted to the corner and back. "No time…" the out of breath teen puffed out with a shake of his head. "Explain later…"

Then with a sudden step forward, he closed into Gene's invisible zone of personal space, his red shirt just inches away from Gene's black one. Startled, Gene instinctually jerked back, momentarily forgetting that he was standing directly in front of a row of hard metal lockers. His head clanged off the painted metal, his eyes flinching shut more out of surprise than pain. The blunt impact trauma was swiftly forgotten, however, as a plane of warmth pressed against his chest, and a soft, hesitant pair of lips brushed against his own.

His eyes flew open and he found himself staring directly into Stark's own blue orbs. The plea written all over Tony's face couldn't have been clearer if the billionaire heir had fallen to his knees and screamed it at the top on his lungs. Completely nonplused, Gene just blinked at the boy. Apparently satisfied his victim wasn't going to react too adversely, Tony pressed his body even closer, his hesitant lips becoming much more firm. It was enough to force Gene's mind into working again.

Tony Stark was kissing him.

His nose gave a pang of protest as Stark's proboscis pressed into it awkwardly. Correction: Tony Stark was kissing him _poorly. _The only question was: why?

The answer came as the sound of rapid clicking approached from the hallway corner Tony had been so nervous about moments before. "Tony?" a feminine voice called, causing Stark's whole body to stiffen against Gene's and his eyes to squeeze shut.

Gene Khan was not a stupid boy. He had been quite literally raised in a den of murderous thieves, where the ability to think on his feet had been instrumental to his survival. It took him less than a second to understand at least the gist of what was going on. Another second was spent reevaluating his initial impression of Stark; he would never have expected his classmate to be capable of his level of duplicity.

Before Whitney Stane could round the corner, Gene had decided he approved. Regardless of what Obadiah Stane's daughter wanted with Stark, she was a complication that Gene didn't need. Dealing with Potts and Rhodes was bad enough, and they were at least useful from time to time. Whitney would only be trouble. And since he approved, there would really be no harm in fixing this sham of a kiss, would there?

Gene forced his tense body to relax; he put his book bearing arm around Tony's waist and raised the other so his hand rested behind his head. Twining his fingers into the soft brown hair, Gene adjusted the angle of their kiss, bringing instant relief to his nose. Being pressed so intimately together allowed him to feel the instant rigidity of Stark's body, his reaction to the unexpected participation.

Gene stifled the urge to smirk. Although he was impressed that Tony had even conceived of this plan, the kiss before was the kind an unwilling child would have planted on their Great Aunt Margaret. It wouldn't have fooled a third grader, let alone Whitney Stane. Now _this_ kiss, if Tony didn't ruin it_, this_ was a level of chicanery worthy of a Khan.

He sucked gently on Tony's lower lip, not sure if the resulting gasp came from his aggressor-turned-victim, or from their unwilling witness at the end of the hall. There was a flash of blonde and red that moved through his peripheral vision; the rapid clicking sounds of Whitney's quickly retreating stilettos.

The bell rang and Gene disentangled himself. Tony stood stock still, wide eyes blinking at him. It was his turn to be shocked dumb. An idle part of Gene's mind wondered if that had been his first kiss; an evil part hoped so. Fighting desperately to keep the satisfied smirk off his face, Gene leaned forward again, his lips almost brushing against Tony's left earlobe.

"_You _owe_ me, Stark,"_ he hissed, putting a believable amount of anger into the words. He stalked off, keeping his body language stiff, the perfect picture of an affronted friend. He was glad when Tony didn't follow him; he wasn't sure he could keep up his facade.

He pulled out his cell and hit a number. "Come and pick me up in forty-five minutes," he ordered tersely before flipping it closed. Screw the final period; he wasn't going to give Stark a chance to explain or apologize. No, Tony Stark could just stew in his own juices tonight, thinking about what he did to his 'unwitting' friend, feeling more and more guilty by the hour. By tomorrow he'd probably be willing to do just about anything to make amends. Of course, Gene Khan already had a price in mind: the next Makluan ring they found. He'd pretend to think about it for a while in order to avoid suspicion, but in the end, that's what he'd choose.

The twinge of guilt resurfaced but was quickly smothered. This time he was practically blameless. Tony had tried to mess with the master and would get appropriately spanked for his efforts. And that was that.

-----------------------------

**A/N: **Just as a fair warning, I like to write, but hate to type and I'm also working on another project right now so expect updates to be sporadic.


	2. Explanations and Frustrations

**A/N:** Sentences presented in italics are thoughts.

**Chapter Two:**

"You did _what_?!" Rhodey's volume increased exponentially with each word; he was practically shouting the last one. People's heads turned to stare at the two teens.

"Shh! Calm down. It was Pepper's idea, remember?"

"Pepper? Pepper! How could you possibly interpret Pepper's words to mean that you should _kiss _Gene Khan?"

Tony grimaced. He hadn't planned on discussing this in the middle of a public sidewalk, but something about the subject matter had apparently frozen Rhodey's feet to the cement. Snagging his friend's elbow, he steered the flabbergasted teen off to the side and out of the way of pedestrian traffic. Then he shrugged. "Pepper said that I should pick a friend, one who would understand I'm not serious. But the only girl who fits that description is, well… Pepper."

"Oh, really genius? Really? Are you seriously just figuring this out now?"

"Calm down and let me finish. See… if you guys are right about Whitney's intentions… I don't think she'd be dissuaded by Pepper. Or any other girl," Tony hastily amended, glancing quickly around as if he expected the perky red-head to appear. "Please don't tell Pepper I said that."

Rhodey shook his head slowly, still trying to follow his friend's train of thought. "You think they'd end up… what? Competing for you?"

Tony smiled. "It sounds so arrogant when you put it that way; but yeah, something like that. You remember what it was like during the A.I.M. thing. Pepper made an aside about Whitney being brainless; Whitney called Pepper my pet and then they were in each other's faces…" Tony shuddered. "I just didn't want to give them another reason to fight, especially not a stupid one."

"Uh-huh. But if Whitney thinks you're gay…"

"Right. She'll have to accept the fact that I'm totally off the market."

Rhodey shook his head again and sighed. "Tony, no offense man, but I don't think you gave this enough thought. Do you know how quickly something like this is going to get around school? What happens when you start getting hazed? Or if you find a girl you actually _want _to go out with?"

"It'll only get around school if Whitney or Gene decides to talk. I don't think that'll happen."

"Whatever you say, man."

Rhodey started walking for home again, albeit slowly. His best friend was a technological genius but completely socially inept. He had no idea how easily rumors started in high school, now the slightest _faux pas_ could turn into a social disaster. Thankfully, the Tomorrow Academy wasn't the crucible that a public high school would have been, but still Rhodey couldn't help but think that Tony was being too cavalier about the whole thing. And heaven help him when Pepper found out how he had enacted her plan; she disliked Gene almost as much as she disliked Whitney.

"How in the world did you get Gene to go along with this, anyways?"

Tony ran his hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "Um… yeah. I didn't really have time to explain it to him."

Which brought Rhodey to a stop again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You… you didn't. _Tell_ me you didn't just walk up to the guy and kiss him without any warning whatsoever."

"Um…"

"Oh, Tony. You know what? If he decides to kick your ass tomorrow, I'm not helping you. In fact, I'm washing my hands of the whole thing. Gene, Whitney and Pepper can take turns for all I care."

"Come on, Rhodey. It's not that bad. Okay, fine; it's bad. In my defense, it was you and Pepper who got me worked up about the whole 'she wants to be your girlfriend' thing. And then Whitney was stalking me and I couldn't shake her and I turned a corner and Gene was just standing there…" Tony grimaced. "I was going to explain things to him before the last period, but… I think he ditched. And he's not answering his cell phone either."

Rhodey had started walking again, partially mollified by his friend's obvious discomfort. "Well, I can't say I blame him."

They walked in silence for a few moments, then a small smile eased the concern off Rhodey's face. "So, um, if you had walked around the corner and Happy Hogan had been standing there…"

Tony blanched. "No. No way, man. Happy's just too… Happy."

A gentle chuckle told him his friend had been teasing him. Tony smiled in response, glad that Rhodey was at least over his shock and done with his lecture. "Of course, I probably could have bought Happy off by doing his homework for the rest of the year. Gene said that I owed him."

"Yeah, you truly do. Most guys would have pounded you into next week; I still can't believe Gene just stood there and took it."

"You know, the guy is pretty smart. I think he realized what was going on. He even helped out a little bit." Tony's hand unconsciously raised and brushed lightly over his lips. "He really knows how to kiss," he muttered absentmindedly.

Unfortunately for him, Rhodey had excellent ears. "Dude, that is just _way_ too much information."

Tony's responding retort was interrupted by an urgent beeping from his POD. "That's the police channel." Slipping the electronic device from his pocket, Tony quickly detached the earpiece. His blue eyes grew distant as he listened. "It's the Mandarin."

-----------------

Gene Khan watched as the ball of red flame grew around his black gauntlet. The power of the second ring was truly amazing. He couldn't help but laugh at the destruction it caused, the Mandarin armor distorting the sound into a deep, echoing rumble. Around him, the white masked Maggia henchmen scrambled for their weapons. He let them; he wanted a fight, a challenge. He needed an outlet for the frustration that had been mounting since his ordeal in the hallway; he longed to be rid of the troubling thoughts that had dogged him since his euphoria about having Tony Stark indebted to him dissipated.

Tony. Just thinking the name allowed the doubts to resurface. During his association with the Stark heir, he had come to think of the boy as a naïve and trusting soul: intelligent enough to be useful, guileless enough to be the perfect dupe. Gene had honed his ability to judge people, their personalities and motivations, to a razor's edge. It was how he had managed to survive Zhang's plots and machinations for so long.

But… after today, after witnessing Stark's attempt at duplicity, after being _used_ by him, Gene had to wonder if he had completely misjudged the teen. What if he had been wrong about Tony Stark? What if the boy genius had been _fooling_ him, using him for his knowledge of the rings and ability to read Chinese all this time? Just like Junrei.

Rage seized him in its fiery grip. Snarling in fury, he teleported into a group of Maggia, blasting the worthless fools into the walls of their own hideout.

No. Not again. Never again. He had been a lonely and frightened child when Junrei had insinuated herself into his life. She had been so kind, so sympathetic and understanding: a replacement mother and best friend all wrapped into one attractive package. And every ounce of it had been a lie.

The idea that Tony Stark had somehow managed to play him in the same way infuriated him. It burned and twisted in his mind; it made him sick to his stomach. He loathed the weak and stupid child that had fallen so blindly for Junrei and her tricks. He despised himself for ever being so pathetic, for not seeing the girl for what she was, Zhang's puppet, until it was almost too late. Thinking about it even now made him want to wretch in his own armor.

A small, calm portion of his mind wryly pointed out that puking would hardly be the best way of striking fear into the hearts of the Maggia. So he focused on his anger instead.

Deep inside, he knew his fears were most likely unfounded, that Tony was probably exactly the kind of character Gene had first judged him to be: an honest soul who was simply trying to hold on to memories of his father by chasing after Howard Stark's dream. Not so very different, really, from Gene's desire to fulfill his destiny as the last Khan.

A blast of something caught him off guard, smashing the Mandarin into a brick wall; the Maggia had apparently pulled out the big guns. Gene shook his head as pieces of shattered masonry clinked off his armor. The Mandarin armor mitigated most of the damage, but his ears still rang and he felt the world spin around him as he pushed himself away from the wall. Struggling to regain his balance, he spotted his attackers, a pair of Maggia holding two large white gun-like weapons. While the rest of the Maggia made a run for it, the two drew another bead on the Mandarin.

Gene snarled. Even from this distance, through the rising dust and smoke, he could make out the Stark International logo on the side of the weapons. What kind of devices were they and why was he so dizzy? _Screw it_, Gene decided, _playtime is over. _Summoning the power of the second ring, Gene blasted the ceiling above his assailants, bringing down a mass of debris on top of the two masked men. The results were most satisfying.

Taking a brief moment to appreciate the irony of using Howard Stark's ring to defeat his inventions, the Mandarin let out a low-toned laugh. Gene was feeling better now; the weapon induced dizziness was starting to fade and the violence had helped stabilize his mood and clear his mind. Striding over to the mound of ceiling rubble, he grabbed the protruding muzzle of one of the weapons and pulled it free.

Just then it started to spark. A glowing ball of energy encompassed the thing, tiny streams of lightning flashing along the surface of the transparent sphere. Gene tossed the Stark creation away, attempting to teleport at the same time.

Too late. The concussive blast caught the Mandarin, propelling him through the nearest wall. Gene's vision was blinded by a flash of light, his ears deafened by the explosion. And then everything went black.

Gene woke to a dark world. He attempted to rub his eyes, momentarily forgetting that he was transformed. Nothing happened; he was stuck. He took a couple of deep breaths, a mistake; the air around him was choked thick with dust. The effort instantly dried his nostrils and the back of his throat; his lungs felt heavy in his chest.

How long had he been out? It was hard not to panic, trapped in the suffocating dark, unable to move. Gene struggled not to succumb to the base emotion, struggled not to lose his capacity for rational thought. Zhang used to lock him in a dark cell all the time when he was little, a punishment for talking back or looking at him wrong or questioning him. Whatever. Junrei would always be the one to release him; yet another ploy to earn Gene's absolute trust. As if a nine year old boy needed that level of deception to fool him.

There, he felt a trickle of anger at the memory. Anger was far better than panic. He was used to anger; it was his old, familiar friend. Gene stoked the smoldering fire with memories of Zhang's cruel smirks, of Junrei's doe-brown eyes as she whispered lie after lie to his trusting, needy soul.

The flames became an inferno; it flooded his limbs, drove every vestige of panic out of his system. The rings responded; he could feel the power surging through the armor. He teleported up and out of the wreckage, appearing in a flash of light on top of the rubble that had once been a building or two. No sooner had he freed himself then something hard and red smashed into him, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling down the pile of twisted metal and destroyed cement blocks.

Staggering to his feet, Gene caught sight of his hovering red assailant. Iron Man, just what he needed. Vaguely, he also registered the wail of approaching sirens and the thrum of police helicopters nearing the scene. This just wasn't his day.

"Look at what you've done," the self-righteous superhero proclaimed, gesturing at the wreckage around them. "Do you have any idea how many innocent people could have been hurt?"

_Innocent people? Who was innocent? They were all tainted and dirty, just like him, _Gene thought. _Even Tony Stark. _Gene laughed then, the sound deepened and reverberated by his armor. He wondered if Iron Man could hear the edge of hysteria to the sound.

"Well, you'd better go save them then. All of your 'innocent' people." He teleported away before the armor-clad superhero could respond. If he recalled correctly, Iron Man was prone to banter, and Gene had no tolerance for empty words from one he had already defeated, with only one activated ring, no less. Plus, he was not yet ready to expose himself to the public eye, not with only two rings to his name. The Tong survived in secrecy and shadows and so too did their leader; it had always been thus, ever since his ancient ancestor had scattered the Makluan rings.

Gene rematerialized in his bedroom above the antique shop and Tong secret headquarters. He pulled the rings off, transforming back into the form of Gene Khan before collapsing on his bed. He stared at the familiar bare walls of his small, unadorned bedroom. Unadorned, because everything he valued, Zhang used against him. Attachment to things or even people was an easily exploited weakness. He had learned that lesson early on too.

Throwing his arm over his eyes, Gene couldn't help but sneer at Iron Man's words. 'Innocent' people. Really, how naïve was the person occupying that annoying red armor, to be capable of spouting such nonsense?

**_TBC…_**


	3. The beginning of the end

**A/N:** Thoughts and dreams are written in italics. However, sentences in italics surrounded by parenthesis (_thusly_) are actually words spoken in Chinese translated into English for the reader's convenience. In other words, subtitles. Hopefully this won't be too confusing!

**Chapter Three:**

It was times like these that made Gene grateful that the faculty and students of the Tomorrow Academy were used to his omnipresent shades. The after effects of the weapon's explosion were hitting him hard; it was rather like having a bad bout of the flu. His body, although visibly unmarred, ached like it was one giant bruise. His head throbbed and he was suffering intermittent bouts of dizziness.

His eyes felt dry and bloodshot, though that could have been because he had stayed up late researching the type of weapon he had been attacked by. His efforts had been ultimately fruitless; but it certainly was an odd creation from a supposed pacifist. Gene pushed his shades up, rubbing the back of his hand over his tired eyes. Who knew, maybe Howard Stark was a big, fat liar just like his son.

Grimacing a little, Gene stretched his sore body; he folded his hands behind his head as he leaned against the brick building that held one of the school's climate control units. It was his free period and he was sitting on the roof, where he fully expected Tony to find him. That was the only reason he had come to school today; he had to know whether or not his initial judgment of Tony Stark was correct or if he had been played. Gene wasn't even sure why it was so important to him, but it was. The need to know had been strong enough to get him out of bed and through three periods of inane drivel.

His ears picked up on the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. One pair… no, at least two. Tony had apparently brought reinforcements. Gene cracked one eye open, then the other. The next few moments would tell him everything he needed to know. And low and behold, there was Stark standing at the rooftop entryway, with Rhodes next to him like an omnipresent grey-clad shadow. The red-headed chatterbox was nowhere to be seen. That was good; Gene wasn't sure how much of her rapid manner of speaking his head could take today.

Tony shifted his weight from foot to foot, one hand scratching the back of his head as he said something unintelligible to his companion. In response, Rhodes gave the teen's shoulder a firm shove in Gene's direction. Gene smothered a smile. There were days when he appreciated Tony's 'mom'.

Stark approached the end of the roof slowly. Although he left his body in its casual, sprawled position, Gene could feel all of his muscles tensing in anticipation. He scrutinized the nearing teen. Guilt, worry, shame, apprehension: all were clearly written across Stark's face. Everything from Stark's hunched shoulders to his hesitant footsteps to his uncertain smile told Gene the truth. He had been right about Tony all along. He was just a good guy who had, in a moment of panic, made a split second decision that, judging by his bloodshot eyes, had haunted him all night.

Gene let out a deep breath. A sensation of relief flooded his body. Tension he hadn't even realized existed released him from its razor claws. It felt like something heavy had been removed from his chest, like he could finally breath freely again. He would have laughed, except that would ruin his plan to play a justifiably irritated friend. So instead he sat up a little straighter, trying to ignore his body's protests at the movement, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

So far, so good, except he couldn't quite summon the scowl he had been meaning to wear for the occasion. The sudden abatement of his tension, combined with Tony's obvious discomfort, sucked the ability right out of him.

Suddenly, Gene was tired of the whole thing. Tony was a decent enough individual; in fact, Gene was pretty sure they could have been actual friends if destiny hadn't made him the last Khan. Certainly no one else had ever looked him in the eye to ask in a completely deadpan manner if he thought he was the only one to ever be kidnapped. (Before he had met Stark, the answer to that question had been 'yes'.) So the boy had wanted some space from Whitney Stane, so what? While Gene still intended to use it, there was surely no reason for Stark to be approaching him as if he expected to be beaten by a stick.

"Um, hey Gene." Tony gave an awkward little wave before cramming his hand back into his pocket. "About yesterday…"

"You were trying to get away from Stane and decided to pretend you bat for the other team. I know."

Tony's relieved smile brightened up his entire face. Unable to resist, the corners of Gene's mouth poked up ever so slightly in return.

"I'm sorry. I know I should have said something or asked…" Tony trailed off as Gene waved a dismissive hand at him.

"It's fine Stark. I don't really care. It's just a pity that you're such a poor kisser." The shocked face was too much; Gene had to chuckle a little bit, even though it made his head pound.

"Oh, ha, ha; very funny," Tony muttered.

"So are you two cool?" Rhodey had edged his way to the middle of the rooftop, close enough to give moral support, far enough away to allow privacy.

"Yeah, we're cool. Told you he'd have it figured out."

Rhodey approached, eyeing the two rich boys. Tony gave him a smile; his hands were still in his pockets but his body posture had completely relaxed. It looked as if a faint blush colored his checks though. Gene was sitting upright against a climate control unit. He looked the same as he always did: 'snide, smug and snooty', as Pepper would have put it. But ever since the teen had carried him out of the collapsing Temple of Wisdom, Rhodey had made more of an effort to look past Gene's natural standoffish tendencies.

He caught a hint of humor on the Asian boy's face, even though one hand was idly rubbing a temple, as if he had a headache. There was a complete lack of malevolence about the teen. Apparently, not only had he figured out Tony's motivations, but he had already forgiven him for what Rhodey considered a pretty big transgression. It was almost disappointing; Rhodey had been hoping for a few fireworks, nothing major, just enough to teach Tony to think a little bit more before acting.

He gave Gene a smile before dropping to sit on the roof. "You're allowed to be mad, you know. I would be, and we've been friends forever. What he did was stupid."

"Hey, it was Pepper's idea," Tony protested.

Gene raised a surprised eyebrow. Rhodey grinned at him. "So get this: Pepper suggests that Tony pick a friend and pretend to go out so that Whitney will leave him alone."

"She never said it had to be a girl."

"The 'girl' part was supposed to be understood, genius."

Gene started laughing weakly. "That's just sad, Stark."

"Thank you," Rhodey said. "At least someone else gets it."

"Gets what?"

The two seated boys exchanged a look and started laughing. Gene's broke off with a grimace though, and he rested his head against his hands. Suddenly, he had two concerned teens hovering above him.

"Are you okay, Gene?" Tony asked, dropping to one knee to get a better look at his friend. Gene forced his squeezed shut eyes open to find himself staring directly into Stark's genuinely worried face.

"I'm fine. It's just a headache; it comes and goes."

"Maybe you should go home?" Rhodes was also hovering, not quite as close as Tony, but still obviously troubled.

Gene shook his head slowly and closed his eyes. They were fools, the both of them. Didn't they understand that compassion was a weakness? He felt a flash of regret. Regret that he couldn't be their real friend, regret that he'd have to betray them in order to achieve his goal.

He opened his eyes, forced a smile and answered as flippantly as he could. "And miss out on Stark trying to explain this to Potts? No way."

His response did the trick. The two best friends' focus shifted to that rather odious task, leaving Gene alone to his thoughts. It didn't escape his notice that they were sitting closer to him now, as if they could alleviate his pain by sheer force of their presence. Oddly enough, it didn't annoy him.

He could do it, he realized, if he was careful and clever enough. He could take the rings as the Mandarin and Tony would never have to know about Gene's role in it all. It somehow seemed more important than before, that Tony not find out. Rhodes too, and Potts, although she would be the hardest to deceive. She already suspected him, and her father being an F.B.I. agent didn't help. But the three of them were a package deal, so he was simply going to have to find a way to make it work.

Gene smirked a little at himself. Friends: he didn't want them, he didn't need them, and they certainly couldn't survive in his world. And yet, here they were, all the same. A pity it wasn't real.

Gene shook his head slowly. Perhaps he was the biggest fool of all, for wishing even a tiny bit that it could be so.

----------------------

By the time lunch had come and gone, Gene was feeling a lot better. His body still ached, but the headache and dizziness were gone.

He was glad he had come to school today; glad he had stayed, even though Stark's explanation to Potts hadn't been nearly as amusing as he and Rhodes had anticipated. After her initial moment of shock, the red-head had recovered quickly, bombarding them with horrendously embarrassing questions. Surprisingly enough, she had approved, although that might have been due to the fact that Tony had made sure to point out that he had been following _her _plan, and that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Whitney since yesterday. Gene didn't quite trust Pepper's swift acceptance though. The girl had a quick mind, and tended to speak it rather bluntly. He was sure he and Stark hadn't heard the last on the issue.

Gene reached his locker and opened it. Around him, the hallway buzzed with students. He tuned them out, as usual. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice them until it was too late.

Black clad individuals invaded his peripheral vision. It took him a second to even realize the danger. Then a quick dart of the eyes left and right confirmed it; they were not students, but Asian men in black business suits.

His chest felt like it was filled with ice; his breath, his heart, halted. The hair on the back of his neck rose; he could feel goosebumps on his arms. The Tong would not be here unless someone had _ordered_ them to come. And there was only one person, besides Gene himself, who could have done that. But that was impossible. Gene had been so careful; no one knew the teen had locked his step-father away; no one knew the Mandarin wasn't Zhang.

The ice in his chest transformed into daggers. They pierced his heart and lungs, his stomach and bowels. This wasn't happening. He couldn't lose so easily, not now.

"Hello, stepson," Zhang's raspy voice came from behind him, confirming his deepest fears. "Still a coward like your mother, I see. Too frightened to even face me."

Gene's dark eyes flashed with hatred. The instantaneous anger melted his insides enough to act. He spun, his hand flying to his chest in what had become an almost unconscious reflex.

Zhang was quicker. He moved with a speed that belied his years; the palm of his hand slamming against Gene's, pushing the boy's back against a locker and effectively trapping the Makluan rings under his shirt. The two Tong closed ranks, boxing him in.

"So. That is where they are. Foolish child," Zhang sneered.

Gene winced, realizing what he had done. The Tong to his left inconspicuously seized his free arm. Zhang took a step forward; Gene could feel the rings bruising his chest. His eyes darted briefly about, looking for any means of escape, but he found none.

Like his two minions, Zhang was dressed in a business suit, dark grey instead of black. Though the hallway was still rife with students, no one gave the men a second glance. Adults in business suits weren't unusual in the private school; there was no reason for anyone to suspect something was wrong. And Zhang's body blocked curious eyes from seeing what was happening.

Zhang's free hand pulled Gene's shirt free of his pants, causing the teen's eyes to widen. The cruel smile never left the elder man's face as his hand crept up the front of Gene's shirt. Flesh crawling at the contact, Gene struggled not to let his step-father see his revulsion. Judging by the triumphant look in Zhang's eyes, he was failing miserably. Then he felt the talons; piercing, dragging slowly up his stomach, creeping torturously towards their prize.

Gene felt the color drain out of his face; his breath hissed out between clenched teeth. His body gave an involuntary spasm, but the Tong squeezing in on him from the left and right guaranteed a lack of flight.

And still the Tomorrow Academy students marched past, blind to what was going on in their midst.

Zhang's unhurried hand had reached the point where Gene's hand was trapped against his shirt. His eyes locked onto Gene's, they never flickered, never wavered. Gene's whole body stiffened. He wanted to grab the rings through his shirt, but the pressure of his step-father's hand against his prevented him even that much freedom. A survival instinct encouraged him to yell for help, but he couldn't do that. That would break the First rule, the rule engraved into him and every other Tong: never rat on the clan. If he broke that rule, the Tong would never follow him, no matter if he was the only heir to the name 'Khan'. So Gene stood frozen, transfixed by Zhang's snakelike gaze.

And then, like a cobra, Zhang struck. The sharp claws on his right hand pierced the flesh on Gene's wrist, pushing on his pressure points and numbing his whole hand. Zhang pulled it away from his shirt; his left hand snagging the two Makluan rings. The chain broke with an audible snap. His step-father took a step back, the rings already hidden in his pocket. His right hand released Gene's wrist and snapped up, catching the stunned teen's mouth in a brain-jarring slap.

His shaking hand cradled his hot, aching jaw. He stared at his step-father in horror. It certainly wasn't the first time Gene had been struck; but in public? Zhang had lost it. And Gene trembled to think what that would mean for him later.

"Gene? Hey, Gene!"

_Oh God no. Not_ him._ Not now._

(_"Who is that boy?"_)

(_"He's nobody; just a classmate."_) Gene lied numbly.

(_"Then get rid of him. We are going home now. There you will learn the price of your stupidity."_)

Zhang nodded at one of the Tong and the man peeled away from Gene's side. The two strode casually towards an exit, leaving the other Tong to monitor Gene. Gene risked a glance up at the impassive man. There was no sympathy in the man's face, only a promise of pain should Gene attempt something foolish. Of course. Zhang would only bring the most loyal of Tong on this mission; not one of the men who remembered that the clan had always before been led by a Khan.

"Gene! Are you all right?" Tony Stark slid to a stop in front of him, his two compatriots right on his heels.

"Of course I am." Gene forced his tone to be dry and casual. "Why do you ask?"

"Because that man _hit_ you!" Pepper declared loudly. "We saw. Who is he? Are you in some kind of trouble? Oh, I know! You're getting kidnapped again, aren't you?" Her hazel eyes danced with excitement, and then her face sobered as she glanced at the business suit wearing Tong. "I'm going to get a teacher." she muttered earnestly.

Gene grabbed her arm to stop her, instantly dropping his hand as soon as her mouth opened to protest. He forced a smile, locking his eyes onto Stark's. He _had _to convince Tony; the other two would follow Stark's lead. "No, don't. It's nothing really. The older man is my step-father. He's back from his trip."

Tony's blue eyes flickered to the still visible retreating back of Zhang, then to the remaining Tong, before settling back on Gene. His tone was low, soothing in contrast to Pepper's excited questions. "Gene, you're bleeding."

Blinking, Gene touched the corner of his mouth where he had been struck. His fingertips touched something wet and came away smeared with red. His wrist was oozing too; he wiped the attention attracting substance off on his black shirt. Keeping the smile firmly on his face, he shook his head with mock rue. "Yeah. I guess I kind of messed up the bookkeeping for the shop while he was gone. Zhang is kind of… _old fashioned_ when it comes to punishments." Gene rolled his eyes to emphasize how trivial it truly was. He glanced around to see how they were taking it.

Potts had her arms crossed in front of her chest, looking completely unconvinced. That was to be expected. Rhodes looked unconvinced as well; his dark eyes kept darting over to Gene's silent guard, unable to logically fit the looming man into Gene's story. That was okay; Gene could fix that. Hesitantly, he finally regarded Stark.

_Come on, Stark. Now is not the time to lose your naivety. _

Thankfully, although Tony looked concerned, he didn't detect a discernable amount of disbelief. The flood of relief that inspired made acting nonchalant a thousand times easier. Gene piled his books into the awaiting Tong's arms, transforming the man from a suspicious lurker to a family servant. "It'll be fine," he lied with a smile. "I might not have your genius in math, but I'm no slouch either. I'm sure I didn't mess up too badly."

It was hard, so hard, to keep the erratic pounding of his heart from reflecting in his voice. But it was beyond important to keep Tony Stark from registering on Zhang's radar.

"I'm going home to straighten this whole thing out. I'll see you guys later, okay?" Gene shut his locker and started to walk away, knowing full well that he'd probably never repeat the action.

Later. He'd deal with the emotions later. If he thought about it now, he'd never be able to walk out the door.

"Gene…"

He heard Stark call out his name, heard the unspoken question behind the words. Faking the smile a final time was painful. Grateful once again for the green-tinted shades that partially hid his eyes, Gene glanced back. "Oh, yeah. You know that extra credit project we were working on? Don't work on it without me, okay? Remember, you _owe_ me."

Tony's head cocked to the side. "Extra credit? Oh, yeah, extra credit, right."

Gene's smile was a little bit more genuine this time, glad that Stark had caught on so fast. "Later."

He turned and made a bee-line for the exit. All he could do now was hope that Stark would take him seriously and drop his search for the Makluan rings for a while. It was for the best. People like Tony Stark belonged in their gilded cages, isolated and insulated from the real world.

Gene straightened his shoulders and tilted his chin up slightly. He pushed open the double door and stepped out into the bright sunlight. He didn't look back.


	4. The well runs dry

**Chapter Four:**

_Tony Stark glanced around at the narrow passageway, his heart dropping into his stomach as he recognized the beginning of his worst nightmare. Familiar voices spoke familiar words behind him: his father and Obadiah Stane arguing about the earthmovers._

"_No."_

_Tony knew this dream, knew every intimate detail, knew how it ended. But he couldn't break free of its iron grasp. He felt a pain in his chest and a corner of his mind knew his mechanized heart was trying to compensate for the sudden spike of beats per minute that this dream inspired._

"_No."_

_He was standing halfway down the private jet's passageway. He could smell the cool, conditioned air; he could feel the hum of the engines through his feet. Before him lay the storage chamber containing the exo-suit: his salvation; behind him, his whole world was firmly telling Obadiah that turning the earthmovers into weapons was out of the question._

_Tony shuddered. His subconscious gave one last futile struggle against the inevitability of the nightmare and then surrendered to it completely. Tony tried to turn then, to go back to his dad, to shout a warning. But his body didn't budge, his voice refused to work. Frozen, he felt the passage of time like a heavy weight on his shoulders, each passing, precious second added more to his unbearable burden._

_His heart beat even faster as the dream crawled painfully towards its close. In the background he could hear his father tell Stane that he was "going to have to refuse, one last time."_

"_No."_

_The word should have been a scream. It was a barely audible whisper. Then he heard footsteps. Tony blinked as a shape formed in front of him. He recognized the person instantly. "Gene?"_

_Wearing his dragon t-shirt and tinted green shades, the teen did not acknowledge him as he came down the isle, eyes focused straight ahead. He passed Tony as if the other boy didn't even exist. Even as a tiny portion of Tony's mind protested that the airplane passageway was too small for such an event to occur, the rest of Tony's head and body renewed its struggle against its paralysis._

_What was Gene doing here? He'd never been here before. Why was he going that way? He couldn't go that way, not to the passenger compartment. He was going to die too._

_The horror of the realization finally thawed Tony's non-corporeal body. Feeling like he was fighting his way through molasses, he forced his body to turn. _

"_Gene, stop," he ground out through stiff lips. The scene partially changed. Tony could still feel the jet's vibrations, but the passageway had lockers now. Ignoring the weirdness, Tony tried again to halt the inevitable._

"_Dad… Gene… no…"_

_A feeling of dread mounted; he knew how this nightmare ended, and there was no altering that. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he called out, his dad never heard him. Why would Gene be any different?_

_But the teen, impossibly far away now, paused. His head turned back, and for the first time, he actually seemed to see Tony standing there. Gene smiled and Tony recognized it as the same smile he had received the last time he had seen Gene, small and a little sad. It was almost as if Gene already knew what was about to happen._

"_Don't go," Tony breathed out._

_The smile widened slightly, just as it had in the hallway that day. "Later," Gene said as he turned away._

_Time suddenly resumed its normal pace. Unfrozen, Tony staggered forward. But, as always, he was too late. A flash of white light blinded him, a roar deafened his ears. Wind stole the breath from his lungs as he began to free-fall._

"NO!!"

Tony Stark sat straight up in bed, one arm outstretched, still trying to save the unsaveable. He sat there a moment, gasping, and then let his arm fall limply to the bed. Hot tears burned down his cheeks; his whole body trembled. In his chest, his mechanized heart burned, its equivalent to the pounding that a normal heart would be doing.

Tony let his head fall forward until his chin rested against his chest. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. After his night terror had eased somewhat, he raised his hand and scrubbed it roughly against his eyes.

"Damn it," he swore softly, taking a sideways glance at his alarm clock. Bold red numbers indicated it was two-thirty A.M. Frustration seizing him, he flung his arm out, knocking the spiteful device off his nightstand. It clattered loudly to the floor, shattering the silence of the Rhodes' abode. Tony flinched and held his breath, waiting to see if Roberta investigated. Seconds passed and nothing. Sighing in relief, Tony pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his sweat damp forehead against them.

The same nightmare had terrorized him umpteenth times since the crash; it was always the same: he could never do anything but relive those last few minutes over and over. His horrified yells used to rouse the whole household, but after a while they had started to leave him alone. Tony was glad for the solitude; concerned faces hovering around him tended to drive him a little batty. It's not like they understood, not really. Not even Rhodey, who was blessed with a mom and a dad and a relatively normal life.

Tony swallowed hard, forcing rising bile back down into his stomach. He didn't _want _to resent his friends or the people around him, but sometimes he couldn't help it; not when it seemed like everyone around him complained about how horrible their parents were, how mean and unfair.

The halls of the Tomorrow Academy teemed with ignorant teens who whined about the most insignificant things. How _dare_ their parents want them to check in via cell phone, or say 'no' to the expensive pair of shoes, or, _gasp_, give them a curfew. Tony tried to ignore it, but sometimes their careless gripes beat on his psyche to the point where he just wanted to shake them hard and tell them how lucky they were to have parents at all.

Even Rhodey and Pepper did it sometimes, mostly Pepper, who was prone to getting into trouble for hacking into her dad's computer when he wasn't looking. It was one of the reasons Tony found Gene's company to be rather peaceful. Except for insisting that Zhang be referred to as his _step_-father, Gene never spoke of his parents at all. And given the way he had been taken out of school, he clearly had more to complain about than most.

Tony sniffed hard and adjusted his head so that his chin rested on his folded arms. His blue eyes stared at the far wall of his bedroom, seeing nothing. Peaceful seemed an odd word to describe Gene Khan, but as soon as he thought it, Tony realized that at least for him it was true.

He couldn't remember a time that Rhodey hadn't been a part of his life. He was stable, reliable, loyal and trustworthy. Truly, Tony saw him as much as a brother as he did a best friend. And sometimes a mother, if he was in lecture mode, Tony thought with a brief smile. Rhodey was his conscience; his brake when he started to get out of control. And he couldn't imagine his life without James Rhodes in it.

Pepper had entered his life more recently. Burst in, would be more accurate. Enthusiastic, energetic and an adventure junkie, she was often the perfect cure for whenever he felt doubtful or reluctant. It had taken him a while to get used to her rapid and direct manner of speaking, but he wouldn't change her personality for anything. If Rhodey was his brake, then Pepper was his gas.

He was so lucky to have two true friends: friends who covered for him, who put up with him, who kept his secrets. They were so close, and maybe that was the problem. There were sides of Tony that he didn't want them to see, days when he didn't want to put on a stiff upper lip and smile and pretend that everything was all right. He didn't want to expose them to his ugly inner self: the anger, the resentment, the frustration, the guilt. So he hid it, buried it under a bustle of activity and Iron Man duties.

There were days when he forced smiles and laughed when all he wanted to do was curl up in a corner and cry. Those were the days he gravitated towards Gene. With Gene, he didn't need to smile and pretend. Gene seemed to be quiet by nature and Tony could see why some people found that off-putting, but for Tony it was a godsend. He could share space with Gene and not have concerned glances, or a thousand and one questions thrown his way.

He had become an oddly comforting presence in Tony's life. Someone who had understood the importance of the Makluan ring quest and what it truly meant to Tony right away. Someone who was steady, neither getting overly cautious nor overly excited about the situations they found themselves in. As a fellow 'rich kid', Gene neither coveted nor resented Tony's money. Sometimes they exchanged baffled glances when Rhodey and Pepper took offense at what they called his 'arrogant', rich-kid comments. And Gene understood pain. Tony hadn't been sure about it at first. The flashes he occasionally saw in Gene's mostly hidden eyes only lasted the briefest of moments. But that day in school, when Gene had turned one final time to smile, Tony had seen it clearly then.

Gene was a stabilizing force, the third leg on the tripod of friend that held Tony up. And he had been absent for three days now.

Sighing, the teenager slowly kicked his covers off and swung his legs out of bed. He padded barefoot across the floor to the dresser and unplugged his phone from its charger. He slid it open, checking to see if Gene had replied to any of the messages Tony had left. As usual: nothing.

Crossing the room again, he sat back down on his bed. Tony felt torn. Gene had said that everything was fine and Tony wanted to believe that. On the other hand, deep down, Tony knew something was wrong, very wrong. The fact that Gene had just guest-starred in Tony's most insidious nightmare proved it.

_Today, _Tony thought to himself. _If he doesn't come to school, answer his phone or text messages today, then I'm going to do something. I don't know what yet, but I've got to do something._

Tony leaned over and picked his alarm clock off the floor. He knew he wouldn't need it. Falling back to sleep after _that _particular nightmare was always impossible. So instead he lied back and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to blank his mind and not think. Dawn never arrived so slowly.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Well, he's probably 'sleeping with the fishes', of course. I _told_ you guys his dad was under investigation, but would you believe me? _Nooo._ Of course, they're Chinese and not Italian, so he's probably not literally sleeping with the fishes. Hm. What do you suppose they do instead? Oh, I know. I bet he's staked out on top of growing bamboo shoots."

"Pepper!" Twin voices echoed out, as two pairs of eyes stared at her in horror.

"What? It totally works. I saw it on 'Mythbusters'."

"Not helping, Pepper." Rhodey shook his head before turning to Tony. "Look. I know what we saw in the hallway looked bad and I know it's kind of odd that he hasn't been to school or answering his calls. But his dad's been gone for a long time. Maybe they're just… catching up."

"Step-father," Tony corrected. The distinction seemed important now. "And catching up with what? Slaps across Gene's face?"

Rhodey grimaced. "Gene said his da… _Zhang_ was old-fashioned. I don't know, man. Maybe you should give it a couple of more days."

Tony growled and kicked a random pebble. It ricocheted off the armory's metal door. "If it were you or Pepper, I wouldn't wait. Iron Man would be tearing this city apart." His feelings of apprehension had not abated in the slightest with the passing of the school day. In fact, they had grown to the point of being almost unbearable. He looked to Pepper.

"What exactly did the FBI suspect Zhang of doing?"

"Oh sure, _now_ you'll listen to me. Well, maybe I don't want to tell you now, ever think of that?" There was silence for exactly one second before Pepper caved. "Okay, I'll tell you!" she said, her hazel eyes dancing with excitement as she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Zhang is… was suspected of being a high ranking member of the Tong."

She sighed at the blank looks the boys were giving her. "Everyone knows about the Mafia, right? Well the Tong are like that, only Chinese. They're also a smaller group, like the Maggia, only more secretive. Think ninjas."

"And Zhang was suspected of being involved with them _because_…?" Tony prompted.

"Oh, well, I didn't get a chance to read the whole file. But I think it had something to do with his business. When you think about it, an antique dealer, who deals in cash and travels a lot, would be a perfect front for laundering money."

"Tony, that's it! The antique shop. Gene and his step-father live above it, right? Well, tomorrow is Saturday. Why don't we just go there and say hi to Gene directly. That way we can see for ourselves whether or not he's okay."

"Rhodey, that's brilliant! I must be rubbing off on you."

"Oh, ha, ha, genius."

"Um, hello? Did either of you hear a word I said about Zhang possibly being a member of a dangerous criminal organization?"

Tony instantly sobered. "Oh… right. Well, you don't have to go if you feel uncomfortable."

"Are you kidding? I can't wait!"

-----------------------------------------------

The next day found Tony, Pepper and Rhodey standing outside of Zhang's Antiques.

"Just remember," Tony reiterated, "we're here for Gene. Not to look for evidence that even grown FBI agents couldn't find."

"Yeah, yeah," Pepper muttered, not really listening. The boys exchanged a look. Then, with a deep breath, Tony pushed open the door.

The antique shop was very much the way he remembered it. Filled with curios both large and small, but all sporting expensive price tags, the brightly lit shop had an odor of 'old' about it. Not necessarily musty, or bad, but the subtle smell things acquire when they've been around a century or three. For Tony it spiked poignant memories of his dad's private collection. And for the first time he realized that Gene often had a hint of this scent about him too.

Glancing around, Tony half expected to see Gene standing around with an annoyed expression on his face, the way he had been the first time Tony had visited the shop. But, with a sinking heart, he saw that Gene wasn't here. A young Chinese sales associate was bowing to an older gentleman while unlocking a display case. Tony made to head in that direction, but a cold, gravelly voice stopped him in his tracks and made him nearly jump out of his shoes.

"We do not allow children in this store. You are going to have to leave."

Tony whirled about, nearly colliding with his just as startled friends, to come face to face with Gene's step-father. A chill crept down his spine as Pepper's words echoed in his mind. He could have sworn that Zhang wasn't there a second ago.

Forcing a smile, he held out a hand, as his own father had done a thousand times before. "Hi, I'm Tony Stark. This is Rhodey and Pepper. We're friends of Gene's from school. Is he home?"

Zhang's black eyes transfixed the teens with its snake-like gaze. His grey brows furrowed down as he considered them, his cold eyes finally fixating on Tony. The silence stretched on long enough to be awkward. Tony let his ignored hand drop just as Zhang offered him a slight upward curl of his lips.

"Gene is here, but he may not have visitors. He is… what is the word? _Grounded_, yes, that is it." Zhang's thin lips spasmed, as if he were enjoying a private joke. "It is a more… _modern_ method of punishment, yes?"

"I see." Tony ran his hand through his hair and glanced at the others. Pepper had gone a shade pale after being startled by Zhang and had yet to recover. Rhodey, however, cleared his throat.

"And how long is Gene grounded for?"

"He will be punished until his attitude reflects a proper amount of improvement."

"Knowing Gene, that might take a while," Pepper whispered. Rhodey stepped lightly on her foot, eliciting a gasp and a glare in his direction. Ignoring her, he spoke again.

"And what about school? He's been absent for days."

Zhang straightened slightly. "My step-son registered at the Tomorrow Academy without my knowledge or consent. He will resume private tutoring, as it has always been. Now if you'll excuse me."

Tony exchanged glances with his friends. Rhodey gave him a sober look and a shrug; Pepper scowled. But they really had no choice but to head for the door.

They had almost reached the exit when Zhang's raspy voice stopped them. "Tony _Stark_, was it?"

"Yes?"

"I understand you came by here during my absence. You sought help with one of your father's projects. Perhaps I can be of assistance now."

Tony stared at the man. He always tried his best to keep an open mind about people; it was something his father had taught him. But, despite his best efforts, he found himself really disliking Zhang. "No thanks. It wasn't all that important anyways. Please tell Gene we stopped by."

"Do not worry, Tony Stark. I will make sure he is made aware." His face once again adorned with a private smirk, Zhang turned his back on the teens. The three pushed open the door and escaped into the light of day with a sigh of relief.

"What a creep," Pepper declared loudly before the door even had a chance to swing fully closed. "No wonder the FBI was investigating him; he's oilier than… than… something really, really oily. Ugh. That sucked. I need a shower now, just to wash his creepiness off my skin. And did you see his fingernails? Yikes! What's he supposed to be, a Chinese Count Dracula or something?"

Ignoring Pepper's steady stream of words, Rhodey nudged Tony. "So what do you want to do now?"

The boy genius gazed back at the antique shop a few second before shaking his head. "I don't know…"

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**A/N: **Starting with Chapter five, accurately entitled 'Reunion', this story will be rated 'M' for dark themes. You'll either have to put it on alert, or switch the ratings filter to 'all' to see when I update. Judge for yourselves whether or not you are mature enough to keep reading. Thanks for your kind attention thus far!


	5. Reunion

**Chapter Five**

Stifling a yawn, Tony trudged home from school alone. Pepper had an after school detention for, surprise, surprise, talking in class. Rhodey was tutoring Happy for an upcoming History test. Tony could have hung out in the school's lab, but just didn't feel like it. Another week had passed with no word from Gene. Not in the physical world, anyways; at night the Chinese boy continued to guest star in Tony's least favorite nightmare.

When one of his dragging feet snagged on a sidewalk crack, nearly resulting in a face plant, the sixteen year old paused, leaning against the warm brick of a store front. As usual, his eyes sought out the tall, white Stark International building. _I was right there and I did nothing. Just like with you, Dad._

That was the crux of it, the core of the guilt that gnawed at his heart, no matter how many times Rhodey and Pepper tried to reassure him. The true kick in the pants was the fact that, at one point, Tony had wanted so badly to meet with Zhang. It was the antique dealer's name that had appeared in his father's diary, and in his mind that had permanently linked the man to Howard Stark. Finding the churlish Gene at the antique shop instead had been a disappointment. But that was then. Now Tony found himself wishing that Zhang had never returned to the continent.

_Pepper wanted to get a teacher. Why didn't I let her get a teacher?_

Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Things had been going so well too. Rhodey and Gene had finally started warming up to each other and Pepper, well, she at least had stopped making accusations in Gene's presence. They had narrowed down the sword's clue to the next ring to one of three places. Life had been good. Now it just felt… unbalanced. And Tony Stark, inventor-genius extraordinaire, didn't know how to fix it.

Against both his best friends' advice he had scoped out the antique shop as Iron Man a couple of times. But his reconnaissance had gained him nothing. Infrared could detect the heat signatures from bodies, but there was no way of telling which, if any, was Gene. And with the stealth tech on the armor still shorting out the power cells at the most inopportune times, Tony didn't dare use it outside the lab.

Pepper had promised to hack her dad's files on Zhang but her father, having been a victim of her curiosity a few too many times, had started locking his laptop in a safe when he wasn't using it. 'Be patient' was Rhodey's advice, but as each day crept by, Tony found following it harder and harder. He had been on the plane when it crashed. He had survived; his father had not. He had been in the hallway the day Gene was taken from school. Now he needed to know that the other boy was safe, that he hadn't made a terrible mistake in just letting him go.

"It was a mistake," Tony muttered. He pushed himself away from the wall and started for home again.

Something long and white slowly passed through his peripheral vision. Startled, he glanced up to see a familiar looking limousine slowly cruise by. Tony blinked, then cocked his head to the side to scrutinize the vehicle. Sadly, he didn't have Gene's license plate number memorized, but it _looked _about right.

A wide grin split his face as the limo pulled to the curb about fifty feet from his position. A window rolled down slightly and a black sleeved arm beckoned him. Tony's heart soared. He broke into a trot. So excited and focused on the window was he that it came as a complete surprise when two men suddenly pressed into him from the sides. One seized his right arm and twisted it behind his back, the other pressed a damp square of cloth over his nose and mouth. The strong fumes instantly made him feel dizzy and sick.

_Chloroform? How old-school. _He tried to struggle, tried not to breathe, but his jog up to the limo made that impossible. Blackness stole his vision and he felt himself slumping forward. Caught by strong arms, Tony's mostly limp body was shoved into the awaiting limousine. The last thing his brain registered as the vehicle pulled away from the curb was that his captors spoke Chinese.

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Voices came to him from far away; his sluggish brain seemed to take forever to process them. His body felt heavy, leaden; he couldn't make it move.

"Were you seen?" a deep, reverberating voice questioned. Tony knew that voice, but his mind refused to place it.

"No, Master."

"Good. Throw him in with the other one. He will learn the price of defying me."

"Yes, Master."

That voice. His brain finally made the connection. It was the Mandarin.

A flash of adrenaline flushed some of the lethargy from his system. He fought to make his body move but only managed a couple of deep breaths. Someone spoke in Chinese and the men carrying his limp form sped up. The clanking and creaking of a metal grate being unlocked seemed unnaturally loud and harsh after their nearly silent passage.

Tony felt his body falling. Lacking the wherewithal to catch himself, he hit an unforgiving floor hard. Groaning, the teen lifted himself up on one shaking arm, just in time to see a circular metal grate above him close with a ringing finality. "Hey," he called, but the two shadowy figures beyond ignored him and moved out of his field of vision. Head pounding, body aching, Tony slumped back down to the cool stone floor. He laid there for a few moments, gathering himself. Eventually, he found the strength to force his body upright.

The first thing he did was check his pockets. P.O.D., wallet, even his house key was gone. These guys were obviously a little more on the ball than Unicorn and Killer Shrike. The floor he sat on was comprised of solid stone blocks, as were the walls. The only source of light came from the hatch he had been tossed down. Now that he was erect, Tony could see that the hatch wasn't as far off the ground as it had felt when he had been falling. If he stood up, the bottom of the opening would be about level with his chest.

The stagnant air was damp and stunk of mold. Tony could smell other things too; sweat maybe and something metallic. The mix of odors was unpleasant and turned his stomach a little. Definitely not four star accommodations.

With a sigh he rubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes before staggering to his feet. With an unsteady lurch, he made his way to the heavy metal grate and attempted to lift it. It didn't budge. He peered out into the empty corridor. In comparison to the cell, the hallway looked clean and modern. He wasn't sure if the lack of visible guards was a good thing or a bad one.

A metallic rattle from behind him almost made Tony jump out of his skin. Whirling, he stared into the gloom.

Crouching in a back corner, the pale flesh of a human stood out starkly against the dingy walls. Knees pulled tightly up to the figure's chest shielded the face from view. Tony stepped away from the hatch, allowing more light to enter the cell. Underneath a fringe of unkempt black hair, dark wary eyes watched his every move. One eye was disturbingly all dark; the white of the eye a horrific dark red. A ridiculously thick metal chain attached medieval manacles to the wall. Even from this distance, Tony could see that the flesh of his fellow inmate's wrists had been chafed away.

Blood and dirt stained the yellow pants. Yellow pants? Tony swallowed hard, his mind refusing to correlate the hunched figure on the floor with the proud teen in his memory.

"Gene?" he whispered out finally. Although the boy on the floor made no response, in his heart Tony knew it was true.

Hesitantly he stepped forward. Step by careful step he neared the person in the corner. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the cell's interior, he could pick out more and more details on the exposed flesh. A rainbow of bruises dotted the shirtless boy's shoulders and arms. Circles of blistered flesh indicated burns. Tony's stomach turned when he caught a good look at a hand. Not only was the wrist raw and oozing, but so too was each finger. It looked like his fingernails had been torn off.

Almost within touching distance now, Tony squatted down, bringing his eyes level with those of his fellow captive. Piercing dark eyes met his own. He had to swallow twice to make his voice work again.

"Gene?"

Behind the fringe of unwashed bangs a pair of dark brows furrowed down. Slowly, a familiar face rose from its protective cradle of arms and knees. Familiar, but barely recognizable beneath the swollen, discolored flesh. Tony grimaced. As bad as Gene's face was, the distinct bruising around his throat, in the shape of an abnormally large hand, was worse. It spoke of just how close his friend had come to meeting his end.

Gene studied him with a similar amount of intensity. His brow did not loose its furrow as he shook his head slowly. "Stark?" Gene grated out the word in a manner that had Tony holding his own throat in sympathy. "Why… are you here? You shouldn't be here. He took the rings, he has the diary. You… you don't _belong _here."

"Neither do you," Tony murmured in response, his brain busy digesting Gene's words.

The Asian boy's mouth quirked upwards in the corners. Tilting his head back until it rested against the block wall, Gene shut his eyes. "I was stupid… careless. It's my fault. Shouldn't have digitized the diary. Now he'll find the rest of them easier. Stupid." The battered boy knocked the back of his head against the wall a couple of times, hard enough to make Tony's eyes widen in alarm. But the self-flagellation ended before he could react. The cell fell into silence.

'He' again. Tony began putting together the clues. The familiar white limo that had kidnapped him, kidnappers that spoke Chinese, the fact that Gene, who hadn't been seen since Zhang took him out of school, was also down here and from the looks of things had been down here for a while, the Mandarin's voice issuing orders…Tony could only surmise that 'he' meant Zhang, who almost had to be the Mandarin. Playing back his memories of his interactions with the other teen, Tony looked for some kind of hint that Gene had been under the thumb of a tyrant the whole time. He found none. Of course, Zhang had been out of town until recently, hadn't he?

Planting his bottom on the floor, Tony started laughing weakly, the out of place sound causing Gene to crack open his good eye. "Sorry. It's just that your step-father really is a criminal. I'm going to have to listen to so many 'I told you so's' from Pepper."

He had meant it as a small joke, a little bit of levity to alleviate the gloom of the place and maybe make Gene smile again. Instead, the reaction was anything but what Tony had expected.

"_Zhang?!_ Zhang is _nothing_ but a petty thief, a usurper who can only _wish_ he was a Khan." The chain binding Gene to the wall rattled angrily as the boy sprang to his feet, pacing back and forth the short distance the metallic tether allowed him.

The action afforded Tony a first good look at Gene's torso and back, where the flesh had been stripped off in criss-crossing inch wide welts. He could smell the raw flesh and blood. Alarmed, Tony also rose. "Easy, Gene," he soothed. But the teen was worlds away, lost in his own agitation.

"The rings, the Tong, they are _mine_ by right; he has no claim to them. The old fool thinks I will take the coward's way out, like my mother; thinks I don't know that he needs me alive. He thinks I've forgotten my birthright. Stupid old man, he knew nothing of the rings' true power. _I_ was the one who claimed the second ring; I was the one who pursued Howard Stark's son. Me, not him! He will _regret_ the day he stole my life from me. Do you hear me, Zhang? I won't make the same mistake twice!"

Gene screamed the last words, giving a fierce tug on the chains; hard enough to split open anew his eroded wrists. The pain seemed to bring him back to his senses. He stood, panting, full body shakes rocking him spasmodically. Very slowly his eyes refocused on Tony and he frowned again, as if he couldn't quite remember the other boy's arrival. He rubbed his forehead, ignoring the drips of blood falling to the floor.

"I forgot, I forgot. Why are you here? I gave him the diary, not you. I told him you were a fool chasing ghosts, that you knew nothing beyond what was in the book. It makes no sense; people will miss _you_. Too much attention, too little gain. Why? Why?"

He dropped his hands and stared at Tony, taking in the shocked and horrified expression on his face. "You… you didn't know? He didn't tell you? But I thought… no… no… I see. You're not here for _him_, you're here for _me._ Enough rope to hang myself, is that it? And maybe more, depending on what he does…" Gene made a strange keening sound; Tony couldn't tell if it was the beginning of a sob or a hysterical laugh. The Asian boy covered his eyes with his hands, muttering unintelligibly in Chinese.

Tony took a shuddering breath. The words Gene had spoken, both the shouted and the whispered, rattled around in his head. Half of them made no sense; the others… confirmed that Pepper had been right about more than just Zhang. And Tony had been so, so wrong. Oddly enough, though shocked, he couldn't bring himself to care. One of Gene's sentences had struck him hard and echoed loudest, above the clamor raised by the others. _"People will miss _you_." _The implication being that _Tony's_ kidnapping would be noticed, cared about and instantly reported. Unlike Gene's.

Tony blinked and glanced around the dark, damp and dingy cell. He took in Gene's battered, filthy body. For two weeks, Gene had been down here, living half-naked in the dark, suffering who knows what at Zhang's hands. Had he held out hope in the beginning? Had he dared to believe, even for a second, in the deepest parts of his heart, that his 'friends' would do something to save him? Or did he truly think that nobody had cared?

'_People will miss you.' _It was true. Rhodey and Pepper aside, the disappearance of Tony Stark would be international news. The FBI would get involved; New York City's finest would be pulled off whatever cases they were working on to join in the search, not in one day or two, but within hours of the Missing Person report being filed. Gene was right, but at the same time he was so very, very wrong.

"We did miss you, Gene," Tony whispered, watching as the other teen stilled. "Pepper wanted to get help right away, but you said everything was fine. He's your step-father; we didn't know this was going on."

Tony's excuses sounded lame and hollow in his own ears. Shaking his head, he pressed on. "We even stopped by the antique shop. Zhang said you were grounded. I am so sorry, Gene. After what happened at school, we should have done _something_. We just… we just didn't know."

"Sorry? You… _you _are sorry? I don't understand. Haven't you heard a word I've said? Don't you realize that you're down here because of me? Don't you get it?" Gene's voice had started in a raspy whisper, confusion clouding his face. It rose with each consecutive sentence, until he was yelling again, anger and self-loathing tainting every word.

"Don't you get it? I've been _using _you, Stark. All this time, you've been nothing more than my dupe. You should fucking _hate me_!"

Tony took a step back, but it was unnecessary. The outburst seemed to drain Gene completely. Utterly exhausted, he collapsed to the floor. Tony reached out a tentative hand to the prone body, but let it drop. He was an inventive genius, but there was nothing he could do to fix this. He didn't even know how to start.

"I don't hate you, Gene," he whispered, because he had to say something; because it was true.

The teen on the floor didn't even twitch in response. Slowly, Tony moved away, trying to give his distressed companion a little privacy in which to compose himself. He was shook up too. The raw emotions Gene had emitted had stripped him more bare than Zhang ever could. It was painful to see another human being in such a state; especially one Tony had… did consider a friend. The self-loathing and guilt in particular resonated within him. Tony felt like crying; he closed his eyes and tried to stabilize himself. Behind him, he could hear Gene move to a sitting position, the chain rattling as he made his way back to the wall, but he didn't turn around. It felt wrong to look at Gene while he was so raw and exposed.

Tony didn't know how much time passed as they silently occupied opposite ends of the cell. Minutes? Hours? The silence was oppressive and stifling. Even the sound of his breathing seemed intrusive. He felt frozen in place, unable to think of anything to say or do to make things less awkward.

A shadow moved in front of the grate, attracting Tony's attention. A plastic water bottle was dropped in; it bounced against the floor and rolled. Tony picked it up.

"Don't," Gene's tired voice warned. "It's drugged."

Checking the cap, Tony saw that the seal was indeed broken. Suddenly his throat was as dry as the Sahara, the denial of something so close a perfect instigator. Swallowing hard, Tony glanced obliquely at Gene. He had been imprisoned for two weeks, so surely he had to have imbibed some of the offered water. What a terrible torment, to have to fight against your own thirst, to have to drink something you knew would hurt you.

Shaking his head, Tony crossed the room and sat down besides Gene. The other teen stiffened, but didn't move away. Tony took off the cap and sniffed the liquid inside; he didn't smell anything odd. Still, why take the chance if there was no need? There were other uses for fresh water. Tony splashed a little in his hand and scrubbed it against his face. Instantly he felt more alert, more… human. It reminded him of something and gave him an idea. With a small smile, he glanced sideways at Gene, who was staring straight ahead, still as a statue.

Tony hesitated, considering. Then he carefully tore a clean piece of his shirt off. Dampening it with the water, he offered it to Gene. "Here. It'll make you feel better." The makeshift washcloth was initially ignored, but this time Tony didn't drop his hand. Even though Gene refused to look at him, Tony could see him mulling something over.

Finally the other teen hissed out," Don't you _dare_ pity me, Stark."

Taking the cloth, Tony put it in Gene's hand, closing his fingers over top of it. "It's not pity; it's compassion. I'm sorry if you've never learned the difference between the two."

Gene's jaw tightened for a long moment, a permanent scowl seemed etched across his face. His dark eyes kept their forward vigil, but he didn't drop the cloth. The minutes ticked by. Finally, he raised it to dab gingerly against his forehead and cheeks. When it became obvious that Gene's injuries and manacles were severely hampering his efforts, Tony gently took the cloth from him and began dabbing at the crusted blood and dirt himself.

"You're killing me, Stark," was the only response to that, whispered so softly that Tony wasn't sure he heard it at all.

"I'm sorry," he responded in a murmur, though it was unclear to him what exactly he was apologizing for. "After the plane crash, because of my injuries, it was over three weeks before I could take a proper shower. It really sucked. I didn't feel human, you know? All I could smell was the blood and the medication…" Tony trailed off. He saw a flash of comprehension in Gene's eyes, though the other teen said nothing.

He kept working until all the water was gone and the small piece of red cloth had turned brown. His 'patient' remained stiff and scowling for the most part, obviously tolerating this particular indignity with the greatest of difficulty. Eventually, though, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. Tony tried to focus his mind on possible escape plans, but Gene's rhythmic breathing was contagious. Tony soon succumbed to sleep.

_TBC…_

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**A/N: **I hope, I hope, I hope Gene didn't seem too OOC here. In the show, he seems to go to Zhang and rant a lot when things aren't quite going his way, so I thought having him do so here wouldn't be too far of a stretch. Remember he's been through a lot. We'll get more from his perspective next chapter. Commentary is welcome.


	6. Sympathy for the enemy

**Chapter Six**

He did feel a little better, physically at least. Not that he'd ever admit as much to Stark. He glanced sideways at the slumbering boy, who was slumped against the wall and snoring softly. He looked ridiculously relaxed for someone who had been kidnapped and tossed into an underground cell. Despite everything, still blissfully naïve and ignorant. Well, perhaps not so ignorant anymore…

Gene had spent his first few days here raging against his captivity, castigating anyone who came within view of his barred hatch and wearing his body out in useless struggles. How long ago had that been? Despite his best efforts, Gene had lost track of time. There were no windows down here, no calendars, no clocks. No way of distinguishing one day from another. The water bottles were given to him sporadically, food even more so.

Gene's time was divided into two sections: prolonged periods of isolation followed by intense punishment sessions, both designed to weaken and eventually break his spirit. Sometimes he wondered if Zhang hadn't already succeeded on that front. His resistance, pitiful to begin with, had severely waned. And now that Stark was here…

Careful not to rattle his chain, he ran his fingers through his hair. The strands were coated with dirt and grease; the sensation, unpleasant. Making a face, he forced his restless body to still. Gene Khan was not stupid; he knew his grasp on reality, on propriety had become tenuous at best. Still, there was no excuse for screaming his biggest secrets to Stark like that. He could only imagine that _this_ was the reason why they were sharing a cell. Now that Stark knew, there would be no going back to the way things were.

No more pouring over the diary together, no more field trips to collect clues, no more Tomorrow Academy, no Potts, no Rhodes… no Tony Stark. There would be no rescue for him, no escape, no reclaiming the rings, no future.

Gene hadn't even realized that he had still possessed a spark of hope until Tony's limp body had been tossed into his cell. Somewhere deep inside, he must have been holding on to the idea that he could still win; somehow reclaim the rings and return to school like nothing had happened. And now, that tiny fragment of hope was gone, killed by his own insane ramblings.

Gene felt empty inside, hollow. There was nothing left to sustain him. Even Stark had given him nothing. If he had responded in self-righteous indignation, Gene at least could have been angry in return. Instead Stark had given him nothing to fight against. Just pity… or compassion. Whatever Stark wanted to call it, it had only made Gene feel worse.

Dirty inside and out, a user and abuser… he really was no different than Zhang. Why wouldn't Stark just hate him, like a normal person would? Didn't he understand the magnitude of Gene's crimes? How their so-called friendship had been a lie?

Guilt, horrible guilt, ate at him. He had never meant for Tony to get involved in this way. It sickened him, thinking of what Zhang would do to the boy and the worst part of it was, whatever he did to Tony would actually be a punishment meant for Gene. Tony didn't deserve that. He belonged in a different world; a nicer, gentler world. Gene had at least known the risks, had known deep inside what the consequences of failure would be.

Iron Man's robotic voice came echoing back at him; something about 'innocent people'. Gene had scoffed at the time, but maybe, just maybe, some people did need protection from the crueler side of life. After all, if Tony Stark did not belong in Gene's world, then it only followed that Gene Khan did not belong in Tony's world. _He_ was the one who had broken the boundary; _he _was the one to blame.

Sighing, Gene laid his throbbing head back, staring blankly at the only way in or out of his prison. There was one card he hadn't played yet, a reserve option he had desperately been holding on to, just in case Zhang forgot the truth about the rings' power. If he used it now, he wouldn't be able to use it again. His step-father would make sure of that. His chances of ever escaping Zhang would be reduced to next to nothing.

A growing feeling of fear and anguish clawed at his insides; made him gasp for air. His eyes burned, wanting to spill liquid his body did not have to spare. A tiny part of his mind rebelled. He hadn't _asked_ Stark to stick his nose where it didn't belong; in fact, he had gone out of his way to keep Zhang from noticing the teen. Not for the first time since beginning his association with Stark, he found himself in an argument with his more pragmatic side.

_Why should I give up my last hope? I did not ask Stark to come to the antique shop. –Yet he came all the same._

_Because he is a fool who doesn't know a real friend from a false one; that is not my fault. –He knows better now. And yet he doesn't turn away from you._

_Zhang will kill me if he discovers there is a way for me to escape. –He will not; but he may kill Stark._

_I do not care. I do not need Tony Stark. –No… he needs you._

He trembled so hard, his chains rattled. Next to him, Tony's quiet snoring halted and Gene froze. Not until the snoring resumed did he release a long shuddering breath. The panic and anguish slowly subsided as he regarded his rumpled cellmate.

Tony, with his easy smiles and genial nature. Tony, who had believed his every lie and had accepted him into his circle of friends. _The fool,_ Gene thought with a mixture of scorn and almost affection.

Tony Stark belonged in the sunlight, with his _real_ friends and school and the business he would one day inherit. Gene was a Khan, born to a life in the shadows. It was his fault Tony was here, and if he could fix it, well… then that was what he had to do. Making the decision helped Gene's insides to feel a little bit better. He wondered if that's how his mother had felt, when she made her final choice.

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Tony awoke to an exchange of whispered Chinese words. He rubbed his bleary eyes and stared. Gene was standing at the far end of his metal tether, as close to the hatch as his chain would allow. The unforgiving manacles had once again opened his abused wrists.

Gene spoke in a low-toned, urgent voice. Tony knew a few Chinese words, but his cell mate was speaking so rapidly that he couldn't even tell where one stopped and another began. It was just one long fluid flow of words. Without moving from his spot by the wall, Tony craned his neck, trying to see who Gene was talking to. He couldn't see anyone, but a soft male voice interrupted Gene to interject a barely audible sentence. Tony made out the word 'Mandarin' and nothing more. Apparently not liking whatever the man had just uttered, Gene responded in a hiss, an authoritative tone lacing the unintelligible words. Giving up on trying to understand, Tony just studied his friend.

The Mandarin. Gene had as good as confessed to being the Mandarin. He had admitted to taking the second ring, Howard Stark's ring, from Obadiah Stane. Although, since Gene did not know Tony was Iron Man, it also followed that Gene would not realize that Tony knew exactly how he had 'claimed the second ring'.

It was hard to believe that _Gene_ had been behind the scary looking dark armor; that it had been _Gene_ who had defeated Iron Man so easily. True, the Asian teen had always held himself apart from the rest of the Tomorrow Academy students and he was sometimes cold and hard to approach. But the Mandarin? It boggled his mind even though he knew it to be true.

Gene finished whatever it was he had been saying; he remained stock-still, staring at the hatch and apparently awaiting an answer.

(_"Yes…Master Khan.")_ came whispering back after a long, drawn out moment of silence.

The tension drained out of Gene's taut body. He took a step backwards, slackening the pressure on his wrist biting manacles. For the first time since Tony had unceremoniously been tossed down here, Gene looked at him directly and smiled. Tony scrambled to his feet.

"What's up?"

Gene glanced cautiously at the hatch before answering quietly. "You're leaving."

"What? How?"

"I called in a favor. There are those amongst the Tong who remember the ancient ways; who their true master should be."

"Wait. You mean we're leaving, don't you? _We_ are leaving."

Gene's mouth thinned and twisted into a smirk. "No. Zhang doesn't really want you. He grabbed you to punish me, to remind me of lessons that I may have forgotten…" Gene trailed off, a strange look passing over his face before he shook his head and continued. "But taking you was a mistake. Iron Man has already been seen flying around, making everyone nervous. If you escape, he'll cut his losses and let you go."

_Rhodey must be using the remote control system,_ Tony mused even as he protested out loud, "Gene, you _can't _stay here. _Look_ at yourself. He'll _kill _you."

The smirk never left the Asian boy's face, but he looked tired now, more defeated than triumphant. "No, he cannot kill me. For the Mandarin to exist, the blood of Khan must walk the Earth. I am the last Khan. My mother made sure of that. Zhang won't take the chance."

"Wait a minute, Gene. All of my father's research led him to believe that the Makluan rings are actually a form of ancient technology, not magical items…"

"Then think of them as being keyed to my specific genetic code. Either way, it does not matter. Zhang isn't going to let me go and he isn't going to kill me without another Khan to take my place. _You_, on the other hand, are very expendable."

Tony blinked. What might have been a gross exaggeration coming from anyone else sounded deadly serious passing across Gene Khan's cracked and swollen lips. He paced restlessly over to the barred hatch and peered up into the empty hallway. Then he turned his back on it and trod closer to Gene. He met the Asian's intense eyes, one normal, one still blood red; and shook his head.

"This is stupid. If they can sneak one person out, they can remove two. I'm not leaving you behind. We can go to the police…"

"And tell them what? That my step-father possesses ancient rings of extraordinary power, rings that transform him into the Mandarin, who, by the way, not even Iron Man can stop."

"We tell them that he kidnapped me and beat you. That'll be enough."

Gene growled. "You are a _fool_, Stark. The world does not work the way you seem to believe it should. _I_ am not telling the police anything. The Tong do not betray their own."

"Have you looked into a mirror lately?"

Gene's gaze slipped away. He studied the floor for a few silent moments, his dark brows furrowed down. When he finally raised his gaze, his countenance was solemn.

"If you had a chance to save your father's company, not two years down the road, but right now, would you take it? I took my chance and I failed. This is my punishment. This is my heritage. Zhang killed my grandfather. He was going to sire his own son on my mother, but she ended her life to prevent that and to save me. After their sacrifices, I cannot run away from my destiny. I must fulfill it, or die trying. But none of this concerns you. You need to go back to _your_ world, to fulfill _your _destiny. Forget about the rings; forget about me. Live your life the way Howard Stark wanted you to. Take back Stark International from Stane and make it your own. Survive, Tony. That is what you must do."

Tony couldn't help but stare mutely at the teen in chains. Not only because he had never heard Gene be so verbose, but also because it felt like, beneath all the words, Gene was saying a very final goodbye. He could see the pain, so similar to his own, lurking behind the grave eyes.

"Gene…" Tony took a step closer, freezing in place as Gene shied away from him, shuffling backwards towards the wall. The certainty faded; confusion rose in its place. Gene raised his shackled hand as if to ward off a blow.

"Stop! Just stop, would you? I am not your friend. I never was. Save your concern for someone who deserves it." He dropped his hands, eyes darting to a point somewhere behind Tony and back again. "Stop trying to save me, Stark. I am a Khan; there is no other life for me. Believe me, my mother tried that path. It led only to misery and despair."

So focused was he on Gene, that Tony never heard the hatch being unlocked, never heard the grey-shrouded Tong drop cat-like into the cell behind him. His first hint was the flash of movement as a familiar, stinky white cloth came around from behind to cover his mouth and nose. Tony struggled; it was instinct to do so, but for naught. As his vision began to darken, he could see Gene straighten, his countenance once again eerily calm.

"Goodbye, Tony Stark."

---------------------------------

A sudden jolt stirred Tony to wakefulness. Groaning, he opened his eyes only to find his world still shrouded. A blindfold, great. He could feel a seatbelt against his skin; a subtle twist proved that his hands were bound together with something soft.

The car bounced, its springs squeaking as they went over another rough patch in the road. The engine rumbled, the kind of noise that came from a leaky exhaust rather than an abundance of cubic inches.

"Hey" he protested, wiggling against his restraints.

"Do not worry," a surprisingly youthful voice answered. "Your ride ends here."

The car screeched to a halt; Tony's lap belt and hand restraints were undone and without warning he was pushed out of the vehicle. Unable to see, he hit the ground hard, the high pitch squeal of peeling tires next to his head made him throw his arms protectively over his cranium. His hands, numb from being bound, fumbled with the blindfold before finally managing to pull it of his head.

Brilliant sunlight dazzled him. By the time his vision cleared, the Tong's vehicle was long gone. Surprisingly enough, he recognized his surroundings. He had been dumped at the end of the Rhodes' driveway. With an impulsive grin at the Tong's mistake, Tony scrambled towards the armory. He had barely made it past the security door when a blur of pink and red slammed into him.

"Tony! Are you okay? Where have you been? Why haven't you answered any of my calls? Oh, phew; how long has it been since you showered?" The red-head stepped back and eyed him critically.

"I don't know. How long have I been gone?"

"Almost a whole day. Rhodey's mom is on her way to file a Missing Person's report."

"And where is Rhodey?"

"He's flying the armor via remote control. We've been searching for you since yesterday. And don't ignore my first questions. I'll ask them as many times as I have to."

"Oh, um…" Tony's mind struggled to recall the exact order of Pepper's words as he hurried towards the armory's control center. "I'm fine and in the Tong's secret hideout, I think…"

Pepper's hazel eyes grew wide at this, but Tony was already focused on his other friend. Rhodey, seated in the gyroscopic Comm. Center, broke out in a tired grin upon seeing Tony enter the room.

"Tony! Where have you been?"

"Rhodey, call the armor back here, then call your mom and stop her from reporting me missing."

Rhodey's smile faded into a less amiable look, but he obligingly pushed a few buttons and then slid out of the Comm. Chair. "What, no greetings; no explanations? We've been worried sick and all you can do is show up and start issuing orders…"

"Rhodey, your mom…"

The taller boy crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No. I think I want to hear where you've been first."

"Look, I know you're irritated with me, but that's going to have to wait. Gene is in real trouble."

"Aha! I knew it! His step-father _is_ a member of the Tong, isn't he?"

"Yeah, Pepper, you were right. And not just any member. Zhang is the Mandarin."

"No way!" Pepper's smile grew to Cheshire cat proportions and Rhodey's arms eased out of their crossed position. But his oldest friend still wasn't ready to let things go.

"Why don't you start at the beginning and tell us everything."

"No time. Rhodey, call your mom, please? If the police get involved this whole thing is going to turn into a complicated mess."

"The abridged version then. Or aren't we important enough to include?"

With a frustrated groan, Tony massaged his temple. "Look, it's not like that, okay? I didn't exactly go of my own free will; I was snatched off the street on my way home from school. They threw me in a cell with Gene… something about him needing to learn a lesson. Then Gene arranged for me to get away."

"Wow. But he was locked up too, right? How'd he manage that?"

Tony had skirted around Rhodey and was checking the armor's location. E.T.A.: five minutes. Running his fingers through his unruly hair, Tony refused to meet either of his friends' gazes as he murmured a response to Pepper's question. "Apparently, Zhang isn't supposed to be in charge of the Tong; Gene is. And…I think Gene was the Mandarin when my dad's ring got taken from Stane."

Dead silence. Then Pepper gave a triumphant cackle. "Ha! I knew it! I _knew_ he was up to no good. All snide and smug and snooty all the time. 'Ooh, look at me, I can read Chinese. I'll help you find the rings.' He was just trying to find them for himself; wasn't he? He was _using_ you. What a jerk! Well, I'm glad he's locked up. Now we can call the F.B.I. and arrest the whole bunch of them. Ooh, and if we get credit, maybe SHIELD will consider my application for internship! Jetpack, here I come!"

"No! No FBI and no police. They won't stand a chance against the Mandarin. And don't say that about Gene. Whatever punishment he deserved, it wasn't this."

"You know, you didn't exactly do so well against the Mandarin last time either," Rhodey pointed out.

"I know. That's why I'm going to use the stealth tech." He held up a hand to ward off the inevitable protests. "I'm just going to use it long enough to burst in there, grab Gene and leave. I'll carry back up power cells with me, just in case. I'll be fine. Of course, it would help if I knew where I was going."

He drummed his fingers impatiently against the Comm. Center as he thought, ignoring the pointed looks his friends were exchanging behind his back. Then Tony grinned, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "I've got it! They took my POD, so I'll just bounce a signal off of it and trace the location. There it is… the antique shop. Their headquarters must be underneath it. Geez, talk about hiding something right out in the open… Now I'll download a virus so they won't be able to get any information out of my phone."

"Tony… why? If what you say is true; Gene is a criminal and the enemy. Why not just leave him there? It's what he deserves. Oh, I know what this is. You have Stockholm's Syndrome."

"Pepper, I was only gone a day. I think it takes longer to develop Stockholm's Syndrome." Tony pushed away from the Comm. as the familiar sound of the Iron Man armor returning filled the armory. "Trust me, you wouldn't be asking if you'd seen him. The funny thing is, though, I think he'd agree with you. Look, I'm going after Gene. You two do what you want." He grabbed a few extra power cells and entered the armor. As the metal plating began encasing his body, Rhodey called after him.

"What do you want me to tell my mom?"

Tony thought for a second, giving Pepper a rueful glance before looking back to Rhodes. "Tell her I got depressed and went out clubbing again. She'll buy that."

The faceplate thankfully chose that moment to close, shutting out any commentary. The HUD blinked into life, allowing Tony to review the armor's status. As he keyed in the launch commands, a cheerful computerized voice chirped in his ear. "Warning: user heart level at twenty-five percent. Recommend immediate recharge."

"Override," Tony ordered. "Direct all auxiliary power to propulsion." He couldn't take time to recharge now, not with Gene's farewell still echoing in his ears. If he pushed things and was lucky, he'd be able to rescue Gene and return to the armory before Roberta Rhodes came home. Then he'd have to play hung over and deal with her disappointment. In comparison, dealing with the Mandarin and his Tong would probably be a cakewalk, Tony thought with a grimace.

The armor rocketed out of the armory. Tony pushed up the power levels to the jet boots, screaming towards Chinatown. He had no idea how much time had elapsed since he had been smuggled out of the Tong headquarters, but in his heart he felt that every minute counted. With a growing sense of dread encompassing him, Tony pushed the armor to its limits.

-----------------------------------------------

"Yeah, mom, I know. I'll tell him."

With a sigh, Rhodey flipped his cell phone closed. Pepper had surprisingly allowed him to finish his call before querying, "Clubbing again? What did he mean by that? When does Tony have time to go out? Isn't he too young to get in? Or is that one of those benefits of being Tony Stark?"

Rhodey's brows furrowed down, his mouth twisting slightly. "Um… after his dad died… Tony had a hard time adjusting. He hid it well at first, then he started disappearing for days at a time. Sometimes he was down here, building all of this, but other times, well, it was pretty obvious what he had been doing. Tony knocked it off after my mom threatened to make him get counseling."

Rhodey shook his head and moved to the Comm. Center, sliding into the seat. "He's going to be in so much trouble when he gets back."

"Deservedly. What does he mean, taking off after Gene like that? We were the ones worried about him, and he didn't even care. Gene, Gene, Gene. Argh! When I get my hands on him, he's going to wish Tony had left him there. Wait. What are you doing? You're not… you're not actually going to _help_ him, are you?"

"Pepper, I agree with you about Gene, but Tony is my best friend. So yeah, I have to help him, even if he is doing something really stupid." He triggered the communications system as he spoke his last words, causing 'really stupid' to echo in Tony's ears.

Grinning, the teenaged inventor answered back, "Thanks, Rhodey. It's good to have you on board."

_**T.B.C…**_


	7. The nightmare won't end

**A/N: **Readers beware. This chapter is the reason the story is rated 'M'. The author has taken ample artistic liberties with Gene's background and history. Mild spoiler alert for Gene's birth name. **Warning**: Expect dark themes, adult situations and non-consensual activities. Reader discretion advised. If you wish to be sent a non-explicit, bare-bones, plot only summary for this chapter, please PM me. As they say on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim: "All kids out of the pool."

**Chapter Seven**

_Gene was dreaming. He knew it was a dream because it had been at least a decade since he had seen the out of date harvest gold patterned wallpaper that decorated the kitchen. A bouquet of sunflowers brightened up the cheap card table where they ate; his mother's favorites. He could hear her now, humming softly as she puttered away, the smell of fresh baked brownies wafting in the air._

_He stiffened, refusing to acknowledge her presence. It was dangerous to remember her. Zhang would…ah, but this was just a dream. Zhang couldn't touch him here._

"_Tamugin, I think I hear your daddy's car in the driveway. Go and see."_

_Suddenly he was five again. He turned anxiously towards his mother's warm voice. He had forgotten how long she had worn her hair back then. It cascaded like black silk down her spine, almost to her waist. Her easy smile crinkled up her eyes until they were almost shut. Eager now, he dashed towards the front door. The house was tiny, a rental property. But that didn't matter._

_Bursting through the door he jumped down the stairs, almost falling in his haste. A pair of large hands caught him, hoisting him up and spinning him around. "There's my big boy," a masculine voice chuckled. "I swear you've grown since this morning."_

_He was drawn down into a hug, a small, well-trimmed beard tickling his face. For a moment, Gene lost himself in the sensations. Here he was safe and loved. Had it really been so long ago? _

_As if to prove such feelings were fleeting at best, his father picked that moment to put him down. Gene squinted up at the faceless form. He knew who it was, but had forgotten all the details. The shade moved away from him. "Come on, champ," he called back, but Gene was rooted to the spot. The images faded away, slipping and shifting out of his grasp._

_The scenery changed._

_He was outside, a tiny bit older, but still so young. His mother knelt beside him, tears flowing freely down her face. He didn't understand any of it: why the police woman had come to the house, why his daddy's picture had been in front of the decorative urn, why his mom was sobbing in the cemetery. He put his small arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her as best he could._

"_Daughter," a grave voice called from behind them. His mother jerked to her feet, pulling him behind her legs._

"_Father," she answered, her voice rough with grief. "_You_ did this, didn't you? It wasn't an accident at all; it was _you_."_

_Gene peeked around his mother's legs, regarding the man who was his grandfather. Tall perhaps at one time, age had bowed his body. He stood with the help of a cane, dressed in finer clothes than Gene had ever seen before. His hair was yellow-white with age, his face craggy, but the eyes that stared at them from above hollowed cheeks had lost none of their vibrancy._

"_Daughter, it is time to end this foolishness. Come home and marry Zhang, as it was arranged at your birth. Do so now and all will be forgiven. You may even keep the outsider's son."_

_His mother's hand tightened around his arm so hard that he gasped. She straightened, anger replacing the grief. "No. Do not call him that. He is _my _son. It is _my_ blood that flows through his veins; _your_ blood. He is a Khan and you will acknowledge him as such or you will be seeking another heir."_

_The old man hissed in response. "After all this time, you still defy me?!"_

_For a moment, Gene feared his grandfather would strike his mother with the cane. He tried to put himself in front of her, but her iron grasp did not falter. His struggle, however, did not go unnoticed. The fire bled from the old man's eyes._

"_Fine. He is a Khan and I give you my word that all the Tong will recognize him as such. But only if you return with me now and fulfill your duty to your clan."_

_His mother's shoulders slumped forward; even in victory she was defeated. "Yes, Father. I will marry Zhang."_

_The memory faded away, replaced by a new one. His mother was dressed in black and she was helping him into a too stiff suit. At the age of nine, he now recognized the funeral preparations for what they were. His grandfather had passed and the normally grey-clad Tong were all dressed in black for mourning. Gene wasn't sad though; his grandfather had frightened him. His step-father, Zhang, had already taken the Makluan ring and with it, the leadership of the Tong._

"_Mom," Gene whispered, his eyes darting back and forth to make sure they were truly alone. "Mom, now that Grandfather is dead, can we leave? I want to live in a house again, just you and me. I do not want to stay here any longer."_

"_Oh, Tamugin…" his mother cupped his face with gentle hands. "Listen to me. Now that your grandfather is gone, you are in grave danger. Zhang will want his own heir, his own son, to follow after him. But I won't let that happen." His mother stood and smiled at him sadly. _

_Her outfit changed; this was a different day, no more than a month since his grandfather's passing. Her arms were bleeding, the bright red flow shocking against her pale flesh. A puddle pooled beneath her; she knelt in it to look him in the eyes. She had slit her veins the long way, so that there would be no chance of stitching the wounds back up. She reached for him and he flinched away, a scream frozen in his throat._

"_Remember that I love you, Tamugin," she whispered faintly. "Remember… remember that he needs you now. For the Mandarin to exist, the blood of Khan must walk the earth. Your blood, my precious boy. You are the last; it is your destiny to reclaim the Makluan rings. I am sorry. I tried to spare you this path… this burden. Forgive me…"_

_She collapsed and the scream freed itself. It tore its way out of his throat and echoed in his small room._

"_Tamugin, Tamugin, wake up; it is only a nightmare."_

_He was ten and Junrei was there. She soothed him with soft hands and kind words, helping him to change his sweat-drenched sheets. "Don't worry, Tamugin; I won't tell Zhang. I'll stay here until you fall back asleep, okay? You're safe with me…"_

_His sixteen year old mind revolted and the image blurred. _

_He was thirteen and standing in the bathroom, his right hand moving in quick jerks. The door opened and wide-eyed, he froze. Hadn't he locked it? The object of his fantasy entered and softly closed the door behind her. He had always known Junrei was pretty, but seen through pubescent eyes she was a goddess. _

_Extreme embarrassment flashed through him; he stammered, there was no way to hide what he had been doing. She smiled and moved to him, her arms wrapping around him, her hand dropping to where his had been._

"_Don't be ashamed," she whispered in his ear. "You are becoming a man. Would you like me to teach you what that means?"_

_The thirteen year old nodded mutely even as the sixteen year old screamed._

_It was dark here and he didn't like it. Locked in a cell, he waited for Junrei to come and set him free, just like she always did. Tamugin's heart filled with love. They were going to run away together; he had already decided. But when she came, it was with Zhang's arm around her shoulder._

"_Foolish boy," his step-father sneered. "After waiting all this time, you have finally given me another heir of Khan. When it is born, it shall be raised as my child and you… you will no longer be necessary."_

"_Liar! Liar!" the boy raged. "Junrei loves me!"_

_The nineteen year old girl twittered. Snuggling closer to Zhang, she smirked down the hole at him. "Love you? Don't be silly. Not even your own mother loved you. That's why she left like you. I was simply doing my master's bidding and my duty as a Tong."_

_Her hand dropped to caress her still flat belly. "My child will be the next Mandarin," she cooed. "Goodbye, Tamugin. I wish I could say it's been fun…"_

_Heartbroken, the young teen cried in the dark. Gene turned his back on him; how he despised weak, foolish, trusting Tamugin. _

'Am I dying_?' he wondered. '_Is that why I can't wake up_?'_

_The dream once again changed. He was still in the cell, but he could hardly recognize himself in the sallow skinned, dirt covered child that knelt on the floor. How long had passed since Junrei's betrayal? One month? Two? Luckily for him, her pregnancy had not lasted long. The Mandarin was standing above him._

"_Junrei is dead," the black dread knight intoned. "She failed in her duty to bear a living heir of Khan. I am willing to let you out, provided you have learned your place in the scheme of things." _

_Gene prostrated on the filthy floor. "Yes, Mandarin. You are my master. I live only to serve you. Please release me. I am your loyal servant." The words tumbled pleadingly from his mouth even though he hated himself for uttering them. Self-loathing ate at his stomach even as hatred for Zhang burned in his eyes. He would get his revenge someday… someday…_

"I think he's starting to come around," a woman's voice said. Gene tried to focus on it, but it slipped away. The darkness reclaimed him.

"_Master Gene," a Tong beckoned him from the shadows. Older and taller now, Gene raised an eyebrow at the grey-swathed man. Some of the Tong had started calling him that, never in the Mandarin's presence, of course. Gene did nothing to discourage it: one day soon he would be master of them all._

_Curiosity aroused, he followed the Tong into a side room, where another Tong awaited._

"_Master Gene," the one who had summoned him spoke. "We have not all forgotten who bears the true blood of Khan. Long ago, I served your grandfather. If you wish, my son will serve you in the same way."_

"_Huh?" was Gene's intelligent response. The younger Tong, presumably the son, began removing his clothes as the elder explained._

"_The blood of Khan is precious; the seed of Khan is more so. It cannot be scattered far and wide, the way a healthy young man would like to do, lest unworthy fields bear tainted fruit. But there are other fields, Master Gene. Fields that may be sown without fear of consequence. That is what we offer."_

_Gene froze; never had he expected this. Was Zhang behind this, testing him, testing his so-called loyalty? Or were they serious? If he refused, would they take it to mean he was refusing _them_, and their loyalty to his birthright? The younger Tong was naked now, staring at Gene, awaiting his choice…_

_What was he supposed to do?_

"_Gene. Hey Gene," a familiar voice called in the background. He turned towards it, regarding the brown-haired youth in red and blue. "We're all going to eat on the roof. Want to come?"_

"_Go away, Stark," he muttered, turning to almost bump into another Tony. The boy ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. He looked tired._

"_Hey, Gene. Mind if I study in here for a while?"_

"_No, go away."_

_A third Tony moved in from his right. "I don't hate you, Gene," he said solemnly._

_Gene shuddered. It was too much, too much. He couldn't take it anymore. "That's because you're stupid!" he shouted at Tony number three. "What do you want from me? Go away and leave me alone! Go away, go away, go away!"_

_He pressed his hands to his temples, trying to will himself awake. The Starks swirled around him, merging into one. _

_He was standing in the Temple of Wisdom, the red book in his hands. It was utterly quiet in the chamber, yet he knew he had just spoken the word to begin the test. Beneath his feet, a spider web of cracks spread across the floor. _

"_Gene," Tony called, stretching out his hand, concern shining in his blue eyes. _

_Gene stared at the offered hand as if it would bite him. "I can't," he whispered. Underneath him, the cracks silently widened._

"_It's not pity; it's compassion. I'm sorry if you've never learned the difference between the two." _

_The hand remained outstretched, unwavering. Gene felt the floor give a few inches. He swallowed hard, and glanced back up at Stark. The teen gave him the same amiable smile he always seemed to sport._

"_You are a fool," he whispered, even as the book slipped from his limp fingers, even as one hand, against his will, made to reach for the offered one. _

_Too little, too late. The floor split open and Gene fell tumbling into the cavernous darkness. He was glad he hadn't pulled Tony down with him. Tony belonged in the light._

Gene's eyes fluttered, attracting the attention of those in the room. Cool fingertips pulled his lids open; a bright light bobbed in and out of view.

"Is he coming around?" a familiar gravelly voice asked.

"The stimulant is doing its job. He should be fully conscious in a minute or two."

"Finally," Zhang grumped.

The woman's voice was cool and clinical as she responded. "This would not have been necessary if your goons hadn't over tranquilized him to begin with. As a doctor, I feel the need to remind you that this particular drug combination is dangerously unhealthy."

"Humph. I do not care about his long term well being. The day he dared rise against me was the day his fate was sealed. For the here and now, I only need him to function as a man. That is what I am paying you for. He will function, will he not?"

"It won't be a problem. I am very skilled in this area. However, as I mentioned before, there are more scientific ways to achieve your goal. We could harvest his sperm and freeze it; you could create as many heirs to the blood as you desire. The boy would no longer be necessary."

Gene's eyes popped open but refused to focus. The room was bright, too bright to be his cell. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt swollen. Gene tried to move his body, but it was unresponsive. He blinked languidly, his mind struggling to function.

Slowly, very slowly, the woman began to come into focus. Her eyes were like Zhang's: cold, calculating, without pity. They sat in a narrow face graced with high, prominent cheekbones. A high-tied ponytail kept her long black hair out of her way. She was more striking than beautiful, Doctor Shunko, the Tong clan's doctor. Gene had only seen her once or twice before, whenever Zhang's temper had gotten the better of him and he worried about losing the last bearer of the blood.

Zhang stood next to the wall, one hand idly twisting the rings that rested on the other. His cold eyes stared at Gene the same way any predator regarded its prey. "I have considered your proposal, Doctor. If this undertaking fails to provide me with results, you may attempt your 'scientific' method. But for now, I'd prefer not to defy the ancient ways."

The fog in Gene's brain finally began to dissipate. The words swirling around him started to make sense. Ice cold terror ran through his veins, pushing the last of the lethargy from his body. Nostrils flaring, he jerked, trying to sit up. But he couldn't move. He had been bound spread-eagled to a bed. Eyes rolling in horror, Gene realized he was naked. And gagged. He thrashed and twisted, the bed squeaking in protest as he struggled. The adults watch him with twin looks of detached amusement on their faces.

"It appears he is fully awake. You may proceed, Doctor."

"Are you going to watch, my Mandarin? How very exciting," Shunko deadpanned as she started to unbutton her white lab coat.

Gene's breath wheezed sharply in and out of his nose. "No!" he screamed, but only a muffled 'mmph' emerged from the gag. His thought capacity shrank down to one primal urge. He had to get away; he had to flee _now_.

He threw all his effort into freeing himself, ignoring the protests of his body; the sharp, excruciating pain as the nylon ropes bit into his already abused wrists, the searing agony that came from his lashed back.

All in vain. The doctor's white pants dropped to the ground. Zhang took a step closer, his eyes glittering in the harsh light.

Gene could feel his scrotum attempting to retract into his body. Shunko noticed and laid a hand on Zhang's arm. "The prospect is exciting… but apparently counterproductive. Perhaps utilizing the security system would be better?"

Zhang's lips twisted, but he wordlessly complied, leaving Gene with only one person on whom to focus. His heart thudded so loudly in his ears, it almost drowned out her words.

"There now. That's better, isn't it?"

The doctor reached back and undid her ponytail, the curtain of shiny black hair cascading down her bare shoulders. She smiled at Gene, but there was no warmth in the gesture. She sat down on the edge of the bed and bent over him, the ends of her black mane tickling across his chest. One of her smooth hands came to rest on his leg. Gene tried to jerk away, but bound the way he was, only managed to bounce her hand a little.

The smile became crueler. "Let me tell you what is going to happen. Your sperm will be collected, one way or another, and a new heir of Khan will be born. Your life will then be brought to an end. This moment here will most likely be the only moment of non-pain you will receive between now and then. You can continue to struggle and resist if you like, but why bother? The end results will be the same regardless: new heir of Khan, no more Gene."

Her hand began stroking the inside of his thigh, creeping higher, inch by fractional inch. Gene shuddered so hard the bed shook. Tears burned his eyes; his throat constricted painfully. Shunko lowered her head, her breath hot as it puffed across his bare skin.

"You know who is to blame for this, no? You need only look in a mirror."

Gene shut his eyes, misery weighing heavily in his gut. She was right, she was right. If he hadn't found a way to free Stark, Zhang might not have moved so quickly to implement this plan. In truth, it probably had been conceived during his step-father's imprisonment in the bowels of the Tong headquarters, where Gene had locked him away after reclaiming his ring.

Her warm hand caressed his lower abdomen. For a moment, Gene considered just letting it happen. Even if he managed to resist, what would it gain him? She was a doctor; she'd just harvest what they wanted another way, a way that would not be so pleasant.

Hair tingled across his flesh as she lowered her mouth, sucking gently on his neck, placing a playful nip on his collarbone, then soothing it with her tongue. Her hand stroked across his nether regions, dodging his most sensitive areas in a distracting, tantalizing way.

Gene's frozen blood began to flow again. It would be so easy to just give up, submit, allow himself this one indulgence before what was surely to be a painful end. He sucked a shuttering breath in through his nose and let it out slowly. The good doctor was sucking on his nipple now, her hand moving closer and closer to where his body craved to be touched. Warmth was pooling in his groin. It would be so easy. Who would blame him; who would judge?

Gene's eyes popped open. He fixated his gaze on the nearest security camera, knowing that Zhang was most likely watching. And he mentally summoned the most vivid memory of his mother that remained to him: the one of her arms slit wide open, of her drenched in her own blood. The stirrings in his groin ceased; his blood ran cold in his veins.

The doctor noticed. She raised her head, capturing his gaze with her own. "Have it your way then. I could move on to the clinical method, but I think I'd prefer to crush your resistance _personally_. You're sixteen; this won't last long. And then you'll spend the next nine months knowing what a complete and utter failure you are."

Gene didn't dare look at her. Almost two decades older than him and a pawn of Zhang she might be, but it didn't change the fact that an attractive naked woman was straddling his equally nude body. He couldn't look; he couldn't think of that; he couldn't allow his mental block to waver even for a second. He ignored the way her small, pert breasts were rubbing against his chest and stared at the security camera. He pulled up every nasty image of Zhang that he had, imagining that it was Zhang and not Shunko, moving against his body. Because that's what it was, really. Shunko was the vessel, the one with the necessary parts, but Zhang was the motivating force.

Shunko's mouth was now employed, far more difficult to ignore than her hands. It felt good. It disgusted him.

Bile rose in his throat even as his body started to rebel against him.

He wanted it.

He didn't want it.

It was rape.

Her mouth was warm, so warm and moist. There was no escaping the sensation. Her body was soft against his; her tongue: persistent. And she was sucking… sucking…

He hated her. He hated Zhang. He hated himself. He was erect. It was his death sentence.

Her mouth victorious against his mind, Dr. Shunko rose up, positioning herself. Gene threw his body against his restraints; his final, futile act of defiance. The ropes bit against his skin and still he fought. His breath wheezed in and out of his nose, the high pitched rate akin to a rabbit's final moments. Shunko waited, smirking.

Gene's heart thudded heavily in his chest as his body went limp. She was right; he was a complete and utter failure; unable to control or protect himself, the instrument of his own demise. Life couldn't get any worse.

Then the door blew off its hinges, flying across the room to bounce loudly off the opposite wall. Shocked, the doctor jumped off Gene. They both stared at the entryway, where the air shimmered as if heat distorted. A steady clanging sound entered the room. Rolling to her lab coat, Shunko came up with a gun. A beam of bluish light came out of nowhere, blasting the weapon out of her hand.

The shimmering intensified, then rippled out of existence. Iron Man, in all his red and gold glory, stood there. Gene lay motionless on the bed, whatever tiny shred of dignity he had remaining withering away.

He had been wrong. Life had just gotten worse.


	8. Rescue

**Chapter Eight:**

Tony thought he knew evil. Obadiah Stane was a big one, of course. The man was ruining his father's life's work and possibly had a hand in his death. Mr. Fix and Whiplash, men so ruthless they had no qualms over murdering children in order to protect their secrets. Basil Sandhurst, a man whose hobbies included exploiting youths and turning people into mindless meat puppets. Yes, Tony had seen his fair share of the darker side of humanity. But nothing, nothing had prepared him for this.

"Oh wow, is that _Gene_?" Pepper's incredulous voice came over the Comm. link. Tony quickly cut the video feed to the base.

It _was_ Gene. He had been cleaned up for the occasion. The harsh florescent lighting and the absence of dirt highlighted each and every cut, burn, welt and bruise that criss-crossed his skin. Bright red discolored the stark white sheet beneath his bound wrists and ankles; the tightly tied gag was stained a brilliant yellow. And if Tony had needed any more visual clues that what he was witnessing was a complete act of depravity, he had only to look into Gene's rolling, wild eyes. The last time he had seen that degree of abject misery it had been the day he had found out that his dad hadn't survived the crash and he had accidentally looked into a mirror.

Fury burned like fire through his veins even as his stomach twisted in sympathetic empathy. The naked woman rolled across the floor and came up with a gun. Tony blasted it out of her hand before she could fire. It took every ounce of self control to keep from targeting her directly.

"Warning," his armor's cheerful voice chimed in. "Power cell levels nominal. Switching to reserve power. Warning: heart charge levels at seventeen percent. Recommend immediate recharge."

"Override," Tony ordered, even as he toggled off the cloaking system. Although useful for infiltrating the Tong's maze-like headquarters, it was an unnecessary power drain now.

The Tong headquarters was a rat's nest of twists and turns, dead ends and seemingly endless corridors. He had accessed the underground lair from the antique shop, after carefully bypassing a high-tech security system. Even cloaked, he had to be cautious. The grey-clad ninja-esque minions of Zhang stalked the hallways quietly, popping up when he least expected them, forcing him to freeze in place lest his loud mechanical footsteps give him away.

At first he despaired of ever finding Gene in this maze, until Rhodey had suggested scanning for the Makluan rings' energy signature. That had made things easy. The armor picked up on two sources, one strong, the other faint. Believing the faint source to be residual energy left on Gene's body, Tony had made in that direction, thinking that he'd find himself back in the cell. Never had he thought he'd end up in some sort of medical facility witnessing… witnessing…

Shuddering inside the armor, Tony carefully targeted the ropes binding Gene to the bed.

"Yo, Tony, you know that big Makluan energy signature the armor was detecting? It just vanished off the screen."

"Crap. Thanks, Rhodey."

Iron Man picked the lab coat off the floor and tossed it over Gene's body. "We're leaving. Now," the metallic voice intoned as the red exo-suit scooped the quasi-naked teen up off the bed and draped him over a shoulder. Surprisingly enough, his passenger made no protest, nor any motion. Instead he lay limp, like a malleable piece of clay. Shock, maybe? It didn't bode well.

A pinpoint of brilliant white light appeared in the center of the room, quickly expanding into a sphere. Tony barely had time to erect a static shield of his own before the massive power ball swept outward, pushing everything in the room to the perimeter walls. Then the white light winked out of existence, revealing the familiar black dread knight armor. Not one, but two glowing Makluan rings decorated the monster's hand.

"Heh. So this is the Iron Man. How dare you enter my lair and touch my property."

Blinding rage flashed through Tony. He had never wanted to physically _hurt _someone as badly as he wanted to harm Zhang. If he had possessed the power, he would have torn into the Mandarin, ripping the evil old man out of its core even if he had to tear the armor apart piece by piece to get to him. Only the limp form on his shoulder prevented him from completely losing himself to his hatred. He needed to get Gene out of here, no matter what.

"He is _not_ your property." Tony snarled, already directing the armor's power to his chest repulsor, the most powerful weapon he possessed.

"He is Tong. All Tong belong to the Mandarin to do with as he pleases. Drop him now, or face my wrath."

Tony responded by releasing an energy blast from his free hand. Jet boots already engaged, he didn't wait to see if his attack caused any damage. He rocketed down the corridor, twisting over the heads of some Tong as the navigation system guided him back out of the labyrinth.

"Tony!" Rhodey's warning came a split second before the white light popped up in his forward visual display.

"Damn it!"

The armor didn't exactly stop on a dime. But that was okay. Tony pulled his feet in front of him, using the Mandarin's expanding teleportation sphere as a wall to kick off of. He reversed direction, flying back the way he came, but taking the nearest turn available. Anything to get out of the Mandarin's range. Unfortunately, the added momentum made it nearly impossible to negotiate the ninety degree turn. He spun, scraping his shoulder plating against the wall instead of ramming Gene into it. Spiraling out of control, both he and his very unprotected human cargo hit the ground hard, bouncing a few times before skidding to a halt.

Groaning, Tony brought Iron Man to a sitting position just in time to see a blast of fire blow a hole into the corner he had just barely turned. "Oh, _come on_! He's got fire as a power now? When did that happen?"

"Tony, you've got to get out of there!"

"I know, Mom. I'm working on it."

"Well work faster; he's coming."

Tony glanced around, spotting Gene's prone body lying crumpled against a wall. Iron Man had protected him from the worst of the fall, but he appeared to be unconscious. Tony wasn't sure if that a good thing for his rescue attempt or not. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the Mandarin approaching.

"Tony, you can't win this. Just leave Gene and get out of there."

"Not going to happen, Pepper. But you're right. It's time to go."

Leaning back, he released the built up energy from his chest repulsor. Three times the size of his hand beams, the blue-tinged energy pulse blasted its way through the layers of tunnels that lay between him and freedom. Chunks of stone and other debris came careening down. A thick cloud of dust obscured his vision. He snatched Gene up before the teen could be struck, protecting him with his durable armored form.

"Halt," the Mandarin's baritone voice commanded.

Tony didn't pause. He switched every iota of extra power to his jet boots, blasting upwards through his hole. Sky! He could see blessed blue sky at the end of his tunnel. With the unconscious Gene tucked protectively against his chest, Iron Man rocketed out of the Tong's lair, shooting one hundred, two hundred, three hundred feet into the air before beginning a high twisting arc for home. He kept his propulsion systems maxed out, even as he left China Town far behind him.

"Talk to me, Rhodey. Any sign of him?"

You're out of sensor range. Your guess is as good as mine."

Tony frowned and altered his direction slightly. Iron Man had only really battled the Mandarin once, so while it was fortuitous that the armor had scanned the ring's energy signature, he really had no idea what the extent of the Mandarin's powers were. Could he teleport this far? Tony knew he could hover, but could he also fly? Unfortunately, the only one who could answer those questions was still laying rag doll limp in Iron Man's arms.

Tony glanced down at Gene's lax body. Fresh blood spilled from a cut on the teen's temple, the thin flesh already bruising, but otherwise it didn't look like the fall had damaged him. Of course, he was plenty beat up from his stay in the cell.

"Rhodey, prep the medical bay. ETA: eight minutes."

"You're bringing him here? Are you sure?"

"Tony, you can't," Pepper interjected. "He'll find out your secret."

"Gene's unconscious, Pepper. And I'm not leaving him anywhere Zhang can get his hands on him again." The words came out a bit sharper than Tony had intended. The channel fell silent. Guilt bit at Tony's conscience. He knew Pepper was only trying to protect him, like the true friend she was.

"Tony," Rhodey's voice asked hesitantly, "What exactly was going on when you found him?"

Tony grimaced. He had cut the video feed to the armory as soon as he had realized what he had interrupted. But that had taken him a second or two. "How much did you see?"

He could almost feel Rhodey's discomfort over the silent channel, mirroring his own. Then his best friend finally answered.

"Enough to make me think a hospital would be a better place for him."

"Rhodey, if the med-bay can fix my heart, then I think it can handle…"

"I'm not talking about his _physical _injuries, Tony. If what we saw was… well… I'm just saying that he'll probably need some help. Competent, professional help."

"He won't be safe somewhere else. Listen, Rhodey, Gene said something before about the rings losing their power if the last Khan dies. I think it's just a Chinese superstition, but if Zhang believe it…"

He could hear the dawning comprehension in Rhodey's voice. "Gene is the last Khan?"

"For now, which means that Zhang isn't going to give up. Now will you prep the medical bay, please? And have Pepper open the front door. I can't come in the normal way carrying Gene."

"On it."

"Oh, and Rhodey? Is your mom home yet?"

"No. Knowing her, she stopped at a café to calm down and collect herself before coming home. You know you're dead, right?"

"Yeah…" Tony made a course correction, and then looked down at Gene. The wind from their flight was buffeting him severely, whipping the lab coat and his hair and smattering his flowing blood against Tony's already red armor. The hand shaped bruise on his neck had started to molt from purple to yellow, but was still distinctly visible; his eye was still black. The rest of his body looked like he had been used as both a punching bag and a whipping post.

He knew what Rhodey had meant, but given the evidence in his arms, the expression seemed both crass and stupid. Roberta Rhodes would be mad at him, to be sure, but she wasn't going to abuse him. She probably wouldn't even yell. Whatever punishment Tony stood to face, it would be nothing in comparison to what Gene had been through, not only in the past week, but most likely throughout his entire life. All things considered, Tony was glad Zhang had made the mistake of kidnapping him, even if it meant getting into trouble with Rhodey's mom. Because if he hadn't… Tony couldn't even finish the thought.

By the time Tony made it back to the armory, his heart was at fifteen percent. Operating the exo-suit was draining, so Tony figured he'd be okay if he didn't do anything strenuous for the rest of the day. Hopefully, if he couldn't get in a recharge now he'd be able to sneak out of the house later.

"Tony!" Pepper greeted him enthusiastically as Iron Man entered the armory. Then she slapped both hands over her mouth as she remembered his passenger. "Is he still out?" she asked in a muffled voice.

"Yeah. Is the med-bay ready?"

"All set. Ew, is he naked under that thing? Were there bamboo shoots involved? Oh, his head is bleeding pretty badly, huh? It's all over your paint."

Already feeling guilty about further damaging an already injured Gene, Iron Man clanked swiftly down the corridor and into the main lab. A turn to the right brought him to the medical bay, an invention that, coupled with the exo-suit, had saved his life after the plane crash. Rhodey was standing by the door, his fingers nimbly dancing over a keyboard.

"All systems on-line," a computerized voice intoned. "Ready for patient."

A hospital bed rose out of the center of the room. A scanner descended from the ceiling. Iron Man entered the sterile environment, still carrying his limp cargo. Rhodey pulled back the crisp white sheet on the bed and Tony very carefully deposited Gene on to it. His face lined with concern, Rhodey shook his head as he got his first good look at the battered teen. Adverting his eyes, he gently pulled the lab coat off before covering Gene with the sheet. Then they both exited the room.

Rhodey hit a button as Tony disengaged his helmet.

"Initiating scanning sequence." A bright line of blue light flashed over the hospital bed. Readings immediately began to appear on the monitor. The three teens silently read through the growing list of Gene's maladies, although it was difficult to follow as the list kept expanding and re-ordering itself.

"Well… at least nothing seems to be broken," Rhodey commented finally.

_Physically, at least, _Tony couldn't help but think the unspoken words. Unwillingly, his mind flashed back to how he had found Gene: tied spread-eagled on a bed with that desperate, hopeless look in his eyes… He shook his head to clear it.

"What's this highlighted in red?" Pepper asked, pointing to the screen.

"The computer is analyzing his injuries and listing them in order from most severe to least. Red is the worst, the most potentially life threatening or the ones the computer will treat first. Rhodey?"

The grey-clad teen pecked at a few keys, isolating and magnifying the red list of ailments. "Um, he's got two different drugs running through his system: one tranquilizer and one stimulant. The computer doesn't like the combination. He's also dehydrated and malnourished… but the good news is that most of his physical injuries are in the yellow zone, including the one to his head."

"Analysis complete: initiating treatment," the computer's feminine voice interrupted. An I.V. descended from the ceiling just as eight robotic tentacles rose from the floor, surrounding the bed. Each tentacle terminated in three finger-like appendages.

Pepper's mouth fell open; unlike Rhodey she had never seen this before. One of the flexible tentacles took the I.V. needle as another pulled out and straightened Gene's arm. One pushed his head to the side as its helpmate began wielding an electric shaver, eliminating the blood soaked hair surrounding his scalp wound. Supplies emerged from storage compartments in the room: bandages large and small, containers of antiseptic and ointments. A heart, blood pressure and oxygen monitor rolled out of a wall; a tentacle began attaching sensors to Gene.

"Ooookaay," Pepper drawled out with a shudder. "Now that's just plain creepy."

"It's not creepy; it's state-of-the-art," Tony corrected with an offended frown. "This mainframe can connect to any of the leading University hospitals; it updates itself on the most modern treatment methods daily. Each robotic arm has a camera that, combined with the four static cameras in the room, allows the computer to see what it's doing. It never gets tired. It never makes a mistake. It can do anything from applying a band-aid to, well…" the Iron Man armor put its hand over its chest repulsor as Tony smiled softly, "open heart surgery."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying it's not cool; I'm saying that it's creepy. Can you imagine waking up with all those tentacles waving about above you? You wouldn't know if you were getting help, or if you had been abducted by aliens or were taking a ride with Captain Nemo or something. Couldn't you at least make them more friendly looking?"

"Friendly looking? I swear Pepper, sometimes you are such a girl."

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you." A loud computerized beeping ended the potential argument before Pepper could really sink her teeth into it. "What was that? Is Gene dying? Did your monster doctor go off-line?"

"Calm down, Pepper. That's the driveway alarm. My mom must be home."

It was Tony's turn to panic. "Oh man! I have to get out of this armor and up to the house…"

"Wait, Tony! What about Gene? If he wakes up and wanders around…"

"The med-bay is secured with a static force field. He isn't going anywhere. Besides, I doubt he'll wake up any time soon…" Tony's words trailed off as he hurried to the armory's main hub and armor storage center.

"He's right, Pepper. Gene is just as secure in there as he would be in any jail cell. The computer will monitor him and let us know if there are any changes. Judging by the extent of his injuries, it will probably keep him mildly sedated for a while… unless, of course, it wants to let those other drugs exit his system first. Still, with a bump on his head that big, I bet he doesn't wake up tonight. Now, I've got to get up to the house too. Are you going to hang out here?"

"Um… no. Definitely not. Call me later and let me know how much trouble Tony gets in, okay? Or if Gene wakes up. Or if the Mandarin makes a move…"

"Bye, Pepper," Rhodey ushered her out the door in front of him, a bemused smile flitting across his face. His phone chirped.

"There. I texted you a reminder." The phone chirped again. "Or maybe two or three reminders."

"_Bye_, Pepper," he said again, a little more firmly. Up on the grassy knoll, where his split-level house sat, he could see Tony's red and blue form struggling to climb in the bathroom window just as his mom's car finished mounting the long driveway. Rhodey sighed. This evening wasn't going to be fun.

--------------------------------

**A/N:** Happy Halloween! Trick or treat? The treat button is located in the center of the screen. ;)


	9. Asleep or awake, reality bites pt1

**Chapter Nine:**

Waking up in a hospital room with no idea on how you got there was a disorienting experience, Gene Khan discovered. A car wreck maybe? His body certainly felt like it had been in an accident. But his brain refused to give him any answers.

A slew of confusing images were jumbled up in his head; past and present blended together in an indecipherable amalgam. Iron Man, his grandfather, Zhang, Junrei, his mother… His mother? That was odd. He usually kept his memories of her locked up and buried deep inside, where Zhang's barbed words couldn't find them. Yet he had been dreaming of her, he was sure. What the heck had happened?

His pounding head made concentrating impossible. He reached for it, freezing his hand in front of his eyes as he caught sight of the amount of bandages it sported. Each fingertip was individually wrapped; his wrist heavily bound with gauze. Raising his other hand, he found it an exact mirror of the first. Frowning, he finally touched his head, which was also bandaged. The car wreck theory gaining merit, he dropped both hands back to the bed.

One of Gene's hands then snaked across his chest, feeling for the familiar and comforting presence of the rings. His sense of foreboding grew when he discovered nothing but a couple of taped-on sensors. They had taken his rings! That was bad, very bad.

"Doctor? Nurse? Hello?"

The scratchy whisper of his own voice was startling in the otherwise quiet room. The room was darkened, only a few dimmed wall lights provided illumination. The heavy scent of antiseptic stung his nose. One thing was for certain, this wasn't the Tong's underground facility. Why hadn't they come for him?

Why… hadn't… they… they _had!_ They _had _come! With Zhang, at the school. _Zhang!_

Gene sat straight up; a machine beeped at him in an annoying fashion. Ignoring it and the spasm of back pain his sudden motion caused, the battered teen pressed his hands into his temples, willing himself to remember. The nonsensical array of mental images began slowly reordering themselves into a sobering and depressing parade of events.

Zhang had come to school and taken the rings. Gene had been brought back to Tong headquarters; marched in chains in front of an assembly of the men he was supposed to lead, as the Mandarin revealed his deception to them all. Then his shirt had been stripped from him and he had been chained to a post and whipped; not by Zhang, but by the higher ranking members of the clan. Gene understood that it had been both a punishment for him as well as a test for the others. The Mandarin had sat on the Dragon Throne, watching to see if any of the Tong hesitated or showed any sign of collusion. Of course, no one had been foolish enough to slack their blows. Gene shivered at the gruesome memory.

The next group of memories was a blur, as Zhang at turns tormented information out of him and left him alone in a dirty, dark cell. All that Gene had gleaned from Howard Stark's diary and the wall in the Temple of Wisdom had eventually spilled from his treacherous lips. And then the name Tony Stark had come up. He had come to the antique shop, asking for Gene. Did he know anything? Would he be useful?

"No," Gene had uttered, over and over, determined that this was the one thing that Zhang would not pry from him, not taint with his foul touch. He clung to it, this one single act of defiance, as if keeping this tiny bit of information from his step-father would redeem him for revealing all the rest.

"You think of this boy as your friend, don't you?" Zhang had sneered. "Foolish child. You have the same weakness that infected your mother, the same worthless sentimentality. And you thought yourself worthy of being the Mandarin? Have you learned nothing? Must I really teach you this lesson again?"

Gene had denied everything, of course, spitting curses through bloody lips at the man his mother had been forced to marry. Every protestation had further sealed Tony's fate; Gene could see that now. Or perhaps it had been inevitable for the teen to join him in his personal hell. Either way, Tony had been dumped in the cell with him and Gene himself had ruined any chance he may have had of life returning to the way it had been before Zhang's return.

Groaning slightly at his own stupidity, Gene shook his throbbing head. His memories were starting to get blurry again. He remembered helping Stark to escape; forced him to go really, the naïve kid just hadn't seemed to get things at all. And then the Tong had come with tranquilizer darts and blow guns.

And then…

And then…

It was like a dark curtain had been drawn across a corner of Gene's mind, his brain shying away from it every time Gene tried to remember. Something important lay beyond, something vital. He wanted to remember, damn it; he _needed_ to know.

The machine's quiet beeping grew in both volume and frequency. "Warning," a feminine computer-generated voice rang out of nowhere. "Patient stress levels above recommended parameters. Initiating treatment."

Gene's eyes widened as a small plastic bag descended from the ceiling; for the first time he noticed the I.V. shunt taped to the back of his hand. Then a metallic, snake-like appendage rose from beneath his hospital bed, three metallic 'fingers' grasping for his hand. Disbelief warred with rising panic; what kind of freak show hospital was this?

The curtain in his mind fluttered slightly; he had woken up in a hospital room previously, hadn't he? But not this one. His mind balked and Gene didn't have time to try and force the issue. Not when another tentacle had joined the first, approaching him from the opposite side of the bed. Panic won out.

* * *

_Tony lay in a grassy field, his chest on fire with pain. Every breath felt like a thousand shards of glass piercing his lungs; his arm throbbed in sympathy with his heart. On his left hand, a familiar red gauntlet still sparked with discharged energy. Painfully, he dragged his useless body towards the rest of the exo-suit._

"_Tony… wait… don't go." A heartrendingly recognizable voice called out from behind him. Still his body crawled on, one trembling hand reaching for the Iron Man helmet._

"_Tony… please."_

_His dad. His dad was there; his dad was still alive! Tony screamed inside his prison of a body, trying to force himself to stop, to turn back, to look behind him. But the events continued down their fated path._

"_Take… take me to Rhodey…" his traitorous voice ordered, even as the subconscious Tony howled in agony…_

"_No!"_ Tony jerked awake, breath as hard and fast as a marathon runner.

"No," he repeated softly, realizing the dream for what it was.

"Dad didn't have any protection from the explosion. He didn't survive. He wasn't there." Saying the words out loud did nothing to assuage his guilt. The truth was, Tony didn't know for sure. He hadn't looked around; he hadn't done anything but save himself.

"_No!_" a voice unexpectedly shouted in his ear, causing him to wrench his head to its side. His hand came up to slap at his ear; the earpiece he had been wearing flew into his crumpled sheets. Tony blinked at it for a moment; he had forgotten that he had put it on before going to bed. It continued to emit tinny noises as it lay nestled in his bedding. Tony suddenly recalled why he had been wearing it in the first place.

"Gene?"

He hopped out of bed and flew to his computer, turning it on. A few keystrokes connected him to the medical lab's video cameras. A second of witnessing the bedlam within was all it took. Switching off the computer, Tony grabbed a shirt and ran out the door, making a half-hearted effort to sneak quietly through the house before dashing to the armory.

By the time he had donned the Iron Man armor and reached the medical lab, Gene had somehow managed to sever one of the mechanical arms. He was crouching in a far corner, using the metal appendage like a weapon to fend off the other tentacles. The treatment mainframe, never having been programmed for this scenario, was weighing the pros and cons of flooding the room with nitrous oxide. Tony overrode the system and shut it down. The tentacles withdrew back into the floor beneath the bed, save for the one Gene still held. Tony disengaged the static force field and the door lock and entered the room.

Covered in bandages and a stereotypically skimpy hospital gown, Gene's wild eyes fixated on Iron Man as soon as the exo-suit entered. Tony shut the door firmly behind him and then held up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Iron Man?" Gene looked incredulous before an aura of rage distorted his features. "So Zhang bought you off too. Tell him he is wasting his time. There's no more information to pry out of me; nothing more to take. I give up, all right? He's won; I've lost: I get it. There's no more need for these games."

"What are you talking about, Gene? I don't work for Zhang. Calm down and try to think. I rescued you, remember?"

"Oh, really? Then how do you know my name?"

If Tony hadn't been wearing the exo-suit, he would have slapped himself upside the head. "Um… Zhang called it out as I was rescuing you?" Tony flinched as he heard his voice rise lamely at the end, making it more of a question than the confident statement he had meant it to be.

Gene just looked bemused. "You are a horrible liar," he stated matter of factly.

"Look, never mind that. You really don't remember?"

The teen shook his wrapped head slowly, his brows furrowed down in a frown.

Tony switched off his external voice modulator. "Computer, analysis: why can't he remember?"

"Accessing medical lab mainframe. There is a fifty-one percent probability blunt force trauma to head is causing temporary amnesia. Secondary probable cause: deliberate mental block created to protect patient psyche from traumatic event. Third possibility: side effect of tranquilizer/stimulant combination found in patient system."

"Well, he picked up on my slip quickly enough so I'd say his brain is fine. It must be option number two. Can't say I blame him there. Recommended treatment?"

There was a slightly high-pitched whirling sound, and then the computer answered in a tone that would brook no argument. "Warning: User designate Anthony Stark requires immediate recharge. Initiating primary function."

"What? Wait! Override!"

The Iron Man operating system made an unhappy sound. The virtual darkness in which Tony's human body floated was silent for a prolonged moment, then the feminine voice responded. "Override acknowledged. User designate Anthony Stark granted fifteen minute reset."

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. That was the O.S. equivalent of a snooze button on an alarm clock. In fifteen minutes it was going to try and drag him off to be recharged again, whether he liked it or not. That didn't give him much time to resolve things with Gene. The bandage wrapped teen was still standing defensively in the corner, eyes guarded and wary.

"Recommended treatment?" Tony prompted again.

"For psychological trauma, recommend patient designate Gene Khan be allowed to remember on his own. Warning: medical mainframe scanners report patient stress levels unacceptably high and rising."

"Rising? Now what?"

Gene didn't know what had made Iron Man stand there quietly for the past few minutes, but he was glad for the reprieve. It gave him time to think, which he desperately needed to do. Iron Man knew his name. Suspicious? Absolutely. And then he had claimed to rescue him. Gene couldn't recall that, although he also hadn't detected an obvious lie on the spoken words.

Unfortunately for the armor-wearing superhero, there was a gaping hole in that scenario. The Tong secret headquarters was exactly that: a secret. No one outside the clan knew where it was, just as no one had known that Gene was being kept locked up. Well, no one save Tony Stark; but the chances of him tracking down a super hero and then convincing said hero of Gene's predicament were remote at best.

Gene's eyes narrowed; this _was_ one of Zhang's tricks. But why? What did he hope to gain?

The curtain in his mind fluttered again. _He was in a medical room, but not this one. Zhang stood over him, sneering. He couldn't move… he couldn't move!_

Panic filled him even as the vision faded. He had to get out of here. Unthinking, he dashed across the room, towards Iron Man and the door that lied behind him. His actions startled the comatose super hero out of his reverie.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

Gene threw his makeshift weapon at the hero's eyes while using a baseball slide to get past him. He managed to duck under the hero's grasping hand. Freedom lay just beyond!

"Computer, reinstated force field."

Gene's escape attempt ended with him bouncing off an invisible wall; the impact hard enough to send him sprawling. "No… no, no, no, no!" He stood and pounded on the hateful thing. Blood began seeping through his hand bandages.

"Gene, you've got to calm down."

Iron Man was coming up behind him. Gene dodged away, his heart pounding. Something _bad_ had happened, something _horrible._ And this was an extension of it. Keeping his back pressed against the invisible barrier, Gene edged away from his crimson captor, keeping his eyes on him at all times. The robotic hero had his hands held out in a placating manner, but Gene wasn't buying that for a minute.

"What does Zhang want? Why are you involved?"

"I told you, I don't work for Zhang. I rescued you."

"Liar! You couldn't have possibly known where I was. You wouldn't have been able to get past the Mandarin or the Tong…"

Gene's voice dropped off, another fragment of memory flashing before his eyes. _He was tied down and someone… someone else was there… He saw long hair and a lab coat… the now familiar red and gold armor appeared._

Gene was right, Tony realized. There was no way he could explain away his sudden appearance at the Tong headquarters, nor his rescue of a teen that hadn't even been reported missing. As he watched Gene's blood pressure and heart rate spike and his own fifteen minute reprieve count down, he knew of only one way to bring this stand off to a close.

"Rhodey and Pepper are never going to forgive me," he muttered as he disengaged the locking mechanism on his helmet.

"Look," he said out loud. "I knew where you were because when they kidnapped me, they took my phone. I bounced a signal off of it and traced the location. I knew you were in trouble because I was in the cell with you. Gene…" Tony pulled off the Iron Man helmet and revealed his face. "I don't work for Zhang, any more than I would for Obadiah Stane. I hope you can believe me now."

The Asian teen was momentarily stupefied. He stood stock-still, staring at Tony Stark's head popping out of the Iron Man armor. Tony could see a revelation dawning in the bandaged teen's eyes; then he began laughing, weakly at first, with each bout growing in intensity until Gene was almost doubled over, clutching his sides.

"What's so funny?" Tony demanded.

* * *

**A/N: **Originally chapter nine and chapter ten was one long chapter, but I decided to make it into two shorter chapters instead. Hope you don't mind waiting to find out what Gene finds so humorous!


	10. Asleep or awake, reality bites pt2

**Chapter Ten:**

Of all the responses revealing his most important secret could have inspired, this was an unexpected one. Gene was laughing hysterically at him. It was vaguely insulting.

"What's so funny?" Tony testily asked again.

"Oh… nothing…" Gene managed to gasp out between chuckles. His desperate bout of hysterics was coming to a close. "It's just that… I'm obviously still dreaming. What a relief. For a minute, I though I was in trouble here, what with the nightmare table and then you…" Gene plucked at his hospital gown as if he expected it to disappear. He shook his head. "They must have really overdone it with the tranquilizers for my brain to be this addled. Tony Stark can't be Iron Man. Iron Man tackled him into a box of crates when we were kidnapped by the Maggia. Iron Man was seen scouting China Town while he was locked in the cell with me. This is all a drug induced nightmare."

Tony took a deep breath and let it out. While not the reaction he was expecting Gene was calming down and that was the desired result. He turned the helmet over in his hands. "The Iron Man armor can be piloted remotely. That was Rhodey both times."

Sober now, Gene just stared at him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and cocked his head slightly to the side. The suit beeped at Tony.

"Look, if you're calm now, there is something I have to take care of. I'll be right back."

Tony turned the exo-suit, one foot accidentally kicking the detached mechanized tentacle. Remembering Pepper's words, Tony frowned and picked it up. "Um, just for the record, you would have been just as thrown if this thing had, I don't know, smiley faces painted on it or something?"

Gene's expression soured. "This is a dream. I'll wake up any minute now."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Tony disengaged the shield just long enough to exit. He hurried to the ops center, removing the Iron Man armor and watching as it was stored away in its recharge birth. He didn't want to leave Gene alone for too long; the other teen was too smart to continue to delude himself. It was only a matter of time before he recognized that this wasn't a dream but reality. And if his memory returned after that, well, Tony wanted to be there.

After all, Gene had saved him. Despite all the cynicism that spouted from his mouth, he had found a way to free Tony from Zhang. Tony wanted to show him that not everyone who held out a hand wanted something in return.

When he slipped back into the medical lab, Gene was busy examining the room. The teen whirled to face him as he entered; Tony offered him a smile. "Don't freak out, okay?" he said as he pulled his shirt off.

Walking over to a wall, he poked a button. A fist thick cable extended from the wall; Tony attached the glowing blue end to his chest receptor before sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed. This put his back to Gene, a seemingly foolish move, but Tony had his reasons. He could still hear his father's kind voice say,_ "Tony, if you want to earn someone's trust, sometimes the first step is to extend it yourself." _So Tony took a deep breath and attempted to relax, trying hard not to think about the fact that the teen behind him had, until recently, been a criminal overlord.

To his relief, Gene edged around the perimeter of the room until he was off to Tony's left side. His arms were crossed in front of his chest; his brows and mouth were pulled down. All he needed was his clothes and shades to complete the familiar pose.

Gene eyed the recharge process in silence for a few moments. When he finally spoke, his voice had a guarded tone to it. "They never did figure out how Stark survived that plane crash," he said abruptly.

"No, they never did." Tony gave a twisted smile. "I originally designed the exo-suit for shits and grins: something to show off to my dad. We were on the way to the testing grounds when the plane exploded. The exo-suit saved my life; it protected me from the explosion and brought me to Rhodey. A room like this one did the rest." He laid a hand on the metallic edge of his 'heart'. "Permanent souvenir," he said with a shrug.

He could see Gene thinking, putting together the pieces. Tony tried not to stare. Usually Gene's face was a tightly controlled mask, but now, whether it was the situation or the lack of jade shades, Tony found him a bit easier to read. He could see the epiphany dawning on the other's face.

His lips twisting into a smirk, Gene shook his head. "Innocent people… I should have known. Only Tony Stark would be naïve enough to say that. All those bathroom breaks, that goody-two shoes attitude… that's how you and Pepper escaped from the Temple of Wisdom and why Iron Man was fighting those machines when I took the ring from Stane."

"My father's ring," Tony amended with a sad smile. "It must have been activated when I ended the test at the Temple? Its power is fire, right?"

Gene blinked and his face lost its expressiveness. His eyes narrowed. "You fought Zhang? I didn't want…" his voice trailed off as his brows furrowed to the point of almost connecting. The next words dragged out of him slowly, as if it was painful to ask.

"What… what was going on when you rescued me?"

Tony swallowed and looked away. "Um, the computer thinks it's better if you remember yourself."

Silence filled the room. Tony listened to the hum of the recharge cable; with the absence of speech it seemed overly loud. One of his feet bounced idly against the bed; he stilled it. It was difficult not to fidget. Tony realized he had never truly understood the expression 'the elephant in the room' until now. He was glad the computer wanted Gene to remember on his own; he didn't even want to _think _the word, let alone say it out loud.

He remembered Rhodey's words of wisdom, that Gene would need competent, professional help. Maybe he was right; Tony certainly wasn't qualified to handle this. After all, up until this point in his life, he would have been hard pressed to believe that it was even possible for a woman to take advantage of a man. He hadn't given sex much thought at all, other than the random unwanted desire that seemed to crop up at the most inopportune times. His relatively isolated upbringing and the train wreck his life had become worked against him in that regard.

Maybe he really was as dense and naïve as the others claimed, but he had truly assumed that rape was something that happened to girls or in prisons. It was always some sort of distant crime; something that happened to other people, people far away that he didn't know and would never meet. He'd read about it in the paper sometimes, maybe feel remotely sorry for the victim, at least until he turned the page and confronted a different atrocity. This was New York City, after all. In truth he had never devoted more than a passing thought on the subject.

Yesterday changed that. He had seen Gene's face, the face of a victim, and it would haunt him for a long time. Of course, Gene's situation was rather unique and all of it was spurred on by that stupid Chinese legend about the rings. His mind, grateful to have a different subject to turn to, latched on to that.

"Gene? Do you really believe that the Makluan rings will lose their power if you die? Because you're the last Khan?"

For Tony it was a change of topic. For Gene, however, it was a trigger. The dense, black curtain in his mind ripped away, revealing the horrible truth. It hit him like a punch, like a kick to the groin. His breath exited in a whoosh; his knees went weak. He slumped against the wall and slid slowly to the floor, eyes wide open but unseeing. His brain provided all the images he needed.

"Gene? Gene?" a voice called from far away.

He couldn't draw breath to answer, the pain was too great, the shame too overwhelming. He had lost. He remembered clearly Dr. Shunko's moment of triumph. But had she succeeded in gaining what they wanted?

Iron Man had come… Tony had come… He had seen… Tony _knew __everything__._

The truth stabbed at him, flooded over him; he was drowning. Bile, bitter and burning, rose to that back of his throat. It took three hard swallows to force it back down. He became aware of another presence, hovering, squatting down, reaching for him.

He didn't want to be touched! He didn't want to be touched! He could still feel her there on his skin; her hands, her hair; he was filthy beyond belief. Why couldn't Stark see that? He was too dirty to be touched, too pitiful to be seen.

Why? Why did Iron Man have to be _Stark_? Why couldn't it have been some indifferent adult; someone to whom he would only be another victim, another sad statistic. Why did it have to be someone he _knew_? Why was it someone who knew _him_? Tony had saved him and yet it felt like he was killing him, stripping him bare with those astute blue eyes just as surely as the whips had done.

Why? Why did it hurt so much?

Gene wanted to surrender to it, to curl up in a tight ball and sob on the floor. He wanted Tony to lie to him, to tell him everything was all right. He wanted to pummel Stark into the ground for daring to witness his most vulnerable moments.

"Gene?" came the voice again, so close and yet so far away, the audible concern cutting him like a thousand knives.

He was going to throw up. Taking shallow breaths, Gene forced out the one question he had left, the one thing he needed to know. "Am I? Am I still the last Khan?"

"Um… yeah. As far as I know you are. Unless… something happened before?"

An image of Junrei flashed before Gene's eyes, a fresh bout of mental anguish accompanied it. The urge to empty himself became absolute.

"Bathroom?" he gasped.

"There," Tony pointed to a door in the wall.

Gene lurched upright, staggering to the door as fast as he was able. Tony moved with him, reaching for him every now and again as if he could help. Gene moved faster. He didn't want Stark near him. He didn't want to be touched. He practically slammed the bathroom door in the other teen's face.

The bathroom was a utilitarian affair: shower, sink, toilet; all in white and stainless steel. Gene dropped to his knees in front of the porcelain bowl as his stomach heaved. There was nothing in him to come up, so after a little bit of bile he was forced to dry retch over and over. It burned but he couldn't stop. He wanted to purge his brain of those horrible images, of the knowledge of what had happened. Every flash of memory instigated a new bout of nausea. His throat was raw and sore, but it barely registered in comparison to the black hole that was devouring his heart.

----------------

Tony Stark's hand reached for the door handle, and then dropped. Then it rose again, hovering, awaiting permission. He could hear Gene's bout of violent nausea; his own stomach twisted in sympathy. Cold metal touched his hand and he jerked it back. Torn, he didn't know what to do. His initial instinct was to reach out, to help, to try and fix things and make them better. But in this case, he wasn't sure that was the best choice. Tony hated feeling helpless. Why couldn't life be like science, where every problem had a logical solution? And if it didn't, he could invent one.

Maybe, maybe after all he had been through, what Gene really needed was some privacy and space. Tony had wanted that after his dad had died. Yes, maybe that was best.

He waited until the sounds of sickness stopped. Tapping lightly on the door, Tony spoke in what he hoped was a comforting tone. "Gene, I've got to go. But I want you to know that you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you."

Silence. Tony hadn't really expected a response. Unplugging himself, he exited the medical lab, making sure to reengage the force field and the medical computer as he left. He would finish his recharge in the ops center. Heaving a heavy sigh, he took one last long look at the door to the med lab. And then, his heart full of doubts, he slowly walked away.

-----------------

Gene wiped the back of his shaking hand across his mouth. He felt exhausted and empty. He didn't want to move. Maybe if he stayed real still, the world would forget he existed. Maybe he could forget.

Eventually though, the cold tile floor became uncomfortable beneath his thin hospital gown. Using what felt like a monumental effort, Gene made his way to his feet. Slowly he shuffled over to the sink, rinsing his mouth out with cool water. His reflection caught his eye; he stared at the stranger in the mirror. His face was swollen, mottled by bruises in various stages of recovery. One eye was eerily stained red. He remembered that strike; Zhang had used the heel of his hand and, caught off guard, Gene hadn't been able to turn with the blow fast enough.

The boy in the mirror looked pitiful and sad. Oh, how Gene detested him. His step-father's words echoed back to him, a mantra that had been repeated over and over since he was a child. Pathetic. Coward. Child. Weak, just like your mother. Tainted. Unworthy.

Gene felt his hands curl into fists. No. He wasn't any of those things. He had tricked Zhang, hadn't he? He had taken not one ring, but two. He had fooled the Tong, assumed the role of the Mandarin, just as it was meant to be. Zhang was wrong. He was wrong! The five Makluan rings would be _his_, and then no one would ever hurt him again. Zhang, the Tong, the Maggia: it would be _their _turn to tremble on their knees and beg for mercy. The whole world would fear him; respect him, just as it had the first Mandarin, his ancient ancestor, the man named Khan. Power was the only thing that mattered.

Power was the one thing Gene lacked.

Fists spasming open, he glanced again at the mirror. Hopeless eyes looked back at him. He had nothing. He hadn't even been able to resist Shunko. He had required rescuing by Tony Stark. He was nobody, just another victim, another sheep. He _hated_ the boy in the mirror.

The fists were back, swinging wildly. The mirror cracked; the scorned reflection fragmented and skewed. Gene liked it better that way. The outside matched the inside now.

"Warning: self-destructive behavior detected. Initiating countermeasures."

Slots in the wall slid back; Gene could hear a hissing sound. Eyes widening, he jerked open the bathroom door and exited, slamming it shut behind him. The hissing sound continued.

"Damn it Stark, cut it out!" he yelled, but no one responded.

The world began to blacken. He fell forward; mechanized tentacles catching his limp body before it could hit the floor.

* * *

**A/N:** Think Rhodey and Pepper will handle Tony's lack of discretion well? And will Gene ever get away from Stark's helpful but creepy medical invention? Stay tuned to find out!


	11. Through tinted shades

**Chapter Eleven:**

Tony Stark decided that he did not understand girls. Or maybe it was just red-headed girls he found difficult.

Because of Rhodey and Pepper's past protestations about him 'keeping secrets' and 'shutting them out', regardless that he always had their own personal wellbeing in mind when he did such things, Tony had come clean right away. All right, so maybe a _tiny_ bit of his motivation came from the fact that there would be no way to hide the truth from them; the point was that he admitted to it right away.

His conversation with Rhodey had been simple and direct. Rhodey had come down to the armory upon finding him absent from the house. Tony had just finished his recharge.

"So how's Gene?" Rhodey had asked.

"As well as can be expected. Um… he knows I'm Iron Man now."

It had taken the taller teen half a dozen heartbeats or so to digest the information. Then he had replied tersely, "Your funeral. Mom made pancakes for breakfast. If you want to eat before school, we're going to have to head up to the house now."

Tony, not wanting to further irk his best friend, had complied right away, without even checking back up on Gene. The meal, except for some small talk offered up by Roberta, had been a silent one, but the chill had eased somewhat during the walk to school.

So there it was: Rhodey wasn't happy with him, but his reaction had been fairly calm and controlled. _Pepper_ on the other hand… well, Tony was glad he had waited until lunch time to tell her.

"You… Did… _What_?" She bit off every word. Hands planted on hips, eyes narrowed into slits, lips pressed together in a hard, thin line; Pepper was the quintessential picture of anger. "He _lied _to you; he _used_ you; he was the _Mandarin _and you just up and _tell_ him? _I _had to _trick_ the information out of you, but Gene, the lying sneaking bastard, he's so special that he just gets _told_?"

Tony was also grateful that he had possessed the foresight to wait until they were on the rooftop before telling her. There was no one here to overhear.

"Pepper, come on. He woke up completely disoriented. He kept accusing Iron Man of working for Zhang… what else could I have done?"

"You should have just taken him to the police or the F.B.I. That's where _criminals_ belong, Tony. You do remember that's what he is, right? A _cri…mi…nal_."

Tony sighed, feeling frustrated at having to defend his choices yet again. Plus he hated fighting with his friends, especially when he didn't quite 'get' where they were coming from. It was _his _secret, after all, and Gene was hardly in a position to tell anyone. He glanced at Rhodey, who had been silently observing the verbal sparring. His best friend raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask 'what do you want from me?' Yep, he was definitely on his own.

Tony tried to keep his tone calm and non-confrontational, a contrast to Pepper's highs and lows. "We've been over that. He wouldn't be safe there. Zhang would just teleport in and snatch him back up. And that's the best case scenario. Worst case is he teleports in and _hurts_ people before taking Gene again."

"Fine," Pepper crossed her arms tightly across her chest, "I agree that him hurting people is bad; what I don't get is why you care about him taking Gene. You said it yourself, Zhang won't kill him. After what he did, Gene _should_ be locked away."

Despite his best efforts, Tony knew his voice was beginning to develop an edge to it. "And what did he do, exactly? He took my father's ring from Obadiah Stane; so what? I can't say I was sorry to see Stane lose it. He used me? I used him to help me on my ring quest. He kept secrets; so did I. Nothing he did could possibly justify locking him up, torturing him and ra…"

Tony cut himself off before he could finish the word. Pepper, whose ability to communicate far exceeded his own, caught it anyways. For the first time since they started this conversation, her defensive body posture eased.

"What? What were you going to say?"

Tony studied the rooftop. He didn't want to explain this to Pepper… but she was already mad and she hated it when he kept secrets. Maybe knowing the truth would help her understand his position. "How much of the video feed did you see when I went in to rescue Gene?"

"Only a second's worth. Then Rhodey covered my eyes and you cut the link." She gave their silent companion a dirty look as she spoke.

"He was naked, Pepper," Rhodey defended himself, not quite meeting her gaze.

"So? I've seen naked boys before."

The other two stared at her, dumbstruck at her matter-of-fact statement. A freckle-vanishing blush began creeping across Pepper's face. She looked away from their shocked stares. "I took Health," she muttered.

"Oh… Health."

Both boys chuckled half-heartedly in embarrassment. It took a few moments before anyone would look at anyone else. Finally, Tony took a deep breath and tried again.

"The reason Zhang can't kill Gene is because Gene is the last Khan and there is apparently a Chinese legend that says the Makluan rings will lose their power if the heirs of Khan cease to exist. When I found Gene… well, um, Zhang was trying to make him _not_ the last Khan." It was a convoluted way of explaining things. Tony wasn't sure if it was fortunate or not that Pepper was the master of both issuing and comprehending convoluted statements. She got it right away.

"Gene was naked because he was being _raped_?" she whispered.

Tony nodded silently, unable to acknowledge out loud the word he could not say. The rooftop fell silent again. It was a beautiful day. Nice breeze, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. It had been an equally temperate day when the plane had crashed. Tony felt a flash of irrational anger at the weather. Shouldn't it be stormy and gloomy when people got hurt? He stared at the Stark International building, wondering if Pepper would ever understand that he _had_ to save the people he could save, because he'd never make up for the one he hadn't.

Surprisingly enough, it was Rhodey who broke the silence. "You do realize that whether or not that legend is true, Gene isn't going to be safe until Zhang is arrested… and maybe not even then. Who knows what the Tong will do once their leader is gone."

"And even if Zhang was locked away, you won't ever be able to let Gene go, now that he knows your secret," Pepper chimed in.

Tony ran his fingers through his hair, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. Personally, he didn't see Gene as that much of a threat to his secret… but there didn't seem to be much of a point in airing that opinion now. "I know I didn't think things through… _again_. It was early in the morning and he was panicking. You were right about the table's appendages being creepy, Pepper. He had temporary amnesia and thought he was still in Zhang's custody. But yeah, I'll admit it was stupid, okay? I'm sorry."

Pepper smiled, her first since being told, and that made the apology worthwhile. Tony glanced at Rhodey, hoping forgiveness was contagious. His best friend sighed and shook his head.

"So what do we do now, genius?"

"Zhang may have the rings, but we have something even more important: a source of information. I bet Gene can tell us all sorts of things about the rings, like the extent of their powers and their weaknesses. Once we gather enough information, we can formulate a plan for taking Zhang so far down, he'll never be able to hurt anyone again."

"Sounds great. When do we start? After school?"

"Sorry Pepper, I'm sort of grounded for the next two weeks for disappearing for a day and lying to Roberta about it."

"Oh, she didn't buy your depressed and drinking story, huh? That's probably because you're such a terrible liar, you and Rhodey both."

"It's not just because of that; Roberta is one of the top lawyers in New York for a reason: she's really smart and impossible to lie to. She gave me the whole 'you can come to me with any problem' talk." Tony shuddered. He felt extremely guilty about keeping secrets from his dad's most trusted friend. But it was for her own good. Sometimes he wished he could exclude Pepper and Rhodey too, so that only he would be at risk for harm. It reminded him of Gene pushing him away, saying that they weren't friends even as he was arranging to get Tony away from Zhang.

"Two weeks was pretty lenient, all things considered. Give it a couple of days, Pepper. I'm sure my mom will make an exception for you."

"Besides, I want to give Gene a little bit of space for now. He seems to be a bit… fragile."

"Well duh," Pepper snorted in disgust. "Rape isn't about sex, it's about power: who has it and who doesn't. Zhang couldn't have found a better way to crush Gene than that. Oh! You should get him some clothes!"

Tony gave Pepper a baffled look. "Who? Zhang?"

"No, you idiot, _Gene_. Nothing's worse than those hospital gowns; my dad told me. Besides, after what he's been through, clothes will probably make him feel safer and more secure."

Tony nodded and told Pepper what a great idea that was. It was funny how delicate his universe was, that the disapproval of his friends could throw it into disarray and their forgiveness could fix things. Now if only helping Gene could be this easy.

_One step at a time, _Tony reminded himself_. One step at a time._

* * *

Gene stared at the ceiling tile above his bed. It contained one hundred twenty-seven black dots, thirteen percent more than the one to the left and seven percent more than the one to the right. He sighed and closed his eyes. This place was nicer than his former cell; cleaner and without the threat of punishment hanging over his head. But confinement was confinement. And Gene was definitely confined.

Stark's damnable bed-doctor thing had strapped him down after the mirror incident and had yet to release him. It ignored his threats, his demands and his pleas, responding to any rise in his blood pressure with a series of steady beeps that he was as leery of as he had been of the occasional Tong visitor to his cell. He was terrified of being knocked out again; feared the oppressive darkness that had claimed him so entirely.

Worse than the enforced sleep was waking up strapped to the bed, which had sparked off a panic attack so great that he was mortified to think about it now. He didn't want to live through that again. He had been here, but trapped in Dr. Shunko's grasp, reliving those horrible moments right before Iron Man's arrival. His heart had beat so fast, it felt like it was trying to escape his chest. Finally, after the computer voice had threatened to take 'corrective measures' for his high stress levels, Gene had forced himself to calm down.

Since then his mind had been pacing in circles like a trapped animal; his emotions following suit, running from frustrated and angry, to sad, to achingly empty, only to cycle back again. It was exhausting in its own way. But he couldn't seem to break the cycle. He tried focusing on current events to prevent the recent past from overwhelming him again. He had to keep his mind occupied in order to ignore the fact he was strapped down to a bed, the way he had been _then_, with _her._

Tony Stark was Iron Man. The thought inspired a snort every time it emerged. Gene had only fought the armored superhero once; when he claimed the second ring from Stane. As the Mandarin, he had considered the superhero a pest and little more. Although it was impressive to think that a sixteen year old had created all of this, Iron Man's powers paled in comparison with the Makluan rings' latent strength. And now Tony had made himself an enemy in Zhang.

_That is not my fault, _Gene thought stubbornly._ I did not know he was Iron Man; I tried to get him away from all of this… I did not _ask_ him to come back for me… Stupid Stark. If he thinks Zhang will just let me go… _Gene didn't want to think about that. If only he had managed to keep control of the rings…

It had taken three long years of kowtowing to his step-father; three years of bowing and scraping and begging forgiveness for every perceived slight, to create the one moment of opportunity in which to seize his birthright. And he hadn't even managed to hold on to them for three months. He'd never get that chance again; Zhang had made it perfectly clear that he wanted rid of Gene as soon as possible. It was only the blood of Khan flowing through his veins that had stayed his step-father's fatal blow.

_I should have killed him when I had the chance, _Gene thought darkly. But at the time, he couldn't bring himself to do the deed, not even after Zhang had spat on him and called him a coward, 'just like his mother'. If only he had crushed the monster instead of locking him away… none of this would have happened.

Gene's lungs inflated and deflated. He could feel his heart sinking down further and further with every breath. _Why couldn't I kill him? He deserves to die. Zhang is right; I am weak. Maybe this is the fate I deserve for being so… inferior._ Suddenly Gene felt tired and small. Stark had a hole in his chest; he had lost his father and his company and yet he still managed to walk around with a goofy smile plastered on his face. Gene, on the other hand, felt like he'd never smile again.

Even if he somehow managed to get away from Stark; even if he, by some miracle, happened to reclaim the rings, his fight still wouldn't be over. For Zhang to have been freed, it meant that some of the Tong had found and released him. And now that his deception had been revealed, even those Tong prone to be sympathetic to Gene's cause might rethink their allegiances. So even if he became the Mandarin again, he still wouldn't be safe. His future seemed hopeless; everything he had worked for had been taken from him, held forever out of his reach. So what was the point, exactly?

Gene dwelled in this dark cellar of his own thoughts, his brooding only interrupted when Tony finally returned home from school.

The teenaged inventor entered the room wearing his backpack, grimacing when he took in the scene of Gene strapped to the hospital bed. The computer had of course updated him on why the teen was there and how long he had been both confined and conscious. He had also witnessed Gene's uncontrolled terror when he had initially awoken, via a replay from the monitoring cameras. Tony was mortified that he had left this morning without being aware of this situation.

"Computer, release bed restraints," he ordered before addressing Gene. "Sorry about that," he murmured with an apologetic smile.

Gene rolled off the far side of the bed as soon as he was free. Catlike, he landed on his feet and stood partially crouched; muscles tense, eyes wary. Tony stiffened in response, realizing that for all he knew, Gene could be a martial arts master. To his relief, the slightly taller boy suddenly rose and backed away until he bumped up against the far wall. They stared at each other in silence for a moment or two.

"You are a fool, Stark," Gene said finally.

Tony relaxed minutely. The situation was weird, but at least the dialogue was familiar. "Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus."

"You shouldn't have come back for me. I got you out of there for a reason and you threw it all away. Now you're going to have to deal with the Mandarin."

"Yep, definitely going to be a problem. But you saved me, Gene; and even if you hadn't, even if you were as bad of a friend as you seem to think, I still would have come back for you."

"Because you are a _fool_," Gene's voice rose in frustration. Why couldn't he get Stark to see that he was a waste of time? Why wasn't the boy getting angry in return? Instead of the expected response, the brown-haired teen just offered him a smile; smaller than his usual amiable grin, but still genuine. Gene felt his anger vacating him, leaving him hollow and empty.

"You should have dropped me. If I die the rings will lose their power…"

"I don't believe that," Tony interrupted, for the first time showing a bit of his own frustration. "Death isn't an answer, Gene. It is _never_ an answer."

Gene Khan apparently had no response to that. The teen stood against the far wall silently, the fire that had sparked ever so briefly in his eyes extinguished. Wrapped in bandages and bruises, dressed in a hospital gown and standing there with lifeless eyes; he looked like a victim, Tony thought. Again, he could see a reflection of himself in the other teen. When he had woken up after the plane crash only to discover that his father was dead, his company was taken and that he would have to constantly recharge his heart in order to survive, his expression hadn't been too different from the one Gene was sporting now. In fact, scratch Tony Stark too deeply and one would find the same emotions even now.

The difference being that Tony knew that he'd eventually get his father's company back and he had two really good friends to support him in the meantime. What did Gene have to look forward to? What did he have to keep him going? For the first time, Tony began to seriously worry about his friend's state of mental health.

"Is that why you broke the mirror?" he asked quietly. "Were you trying to… end things?"

Anger flared in the oddly light colored eyes opposite him. "I am not a coward like my mother."

Tony blinked. He had forgotten what Gene had told him in the cell they had shared: that his mother had killed herself in order to ensure that Gene would remain the last Khan, to protect him. It was a terrible burden to have to bear, Tony knew, the knowledge that your parent had died in your stead. Gene had been carrying that weight for years; for Tony it was still a raw, open wound, one he feared would never heal. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't afford to fall apart now.

Clearing his throat he said, "Good. I'll change the security parameters on the computer so it doesn't overreact again. Um… your vital signs all look good, but it will still be a few days until you can shower. The computer wants your back and head to heal up a bit first. We got you some clothes," Tony pulled a bag out of his backpack. "I know it's not your usual style, but we figured loose fitting would be better for now."

He pulled out a couple of pairs of black sweatpants and some extra large tees. The bag also contained some boxers and socks, but Tony left those in to be discovered later. Instead he grabbed a small case that rested near the bottom of the bag and slipped it into his pocket. He began working his way closer to Gene, keeping up a steady stream of conversation as he went.

"If you're hungry, I can get you something to eat. Only bland foods for now, I'm afraid, but better than nothing, right? You've got to be starving."

Gene shook his head in denial. He was in fact extremely hungry, but he wasn't quite ready to trust Stark's intentions yet, especially not when the other teen was inching his way closer and closer. His body stiffened as Stark came within touching distance, but he refused to move. He wasn't going to run away, not from Tony Stark.

His rescuer/captor cocked his head almost imperceptibly to one side and squinted slightly at Gene. Then he straightened and smiled. Feeling like the butt of a joke he didn't understand, Gene scowled in response. Despite his previous resolve, he found his body leaning away from Tony.

"What do you want, Stark?" he inquired crossly.

Tony laughed a little and scratched the back of his head while smiling sheepishly, like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Apparently he had believed his observation antics to be inscrutable. "Ah-heh, I was just curious. Until recently, I've never seen you without your shades. And things have been so crazy that I didn't get a chance to notice before."

Gene could feel his eyebrows creeping upwards; Stark's explanation making exactly zero sense to him.

"Your eye color," Tony clarified. "I didn't think I'd get a chance to see them after today." He pulled the small case out of his pocket and handed it to Gene.

Hesitantly, the boy opened it to find a pair of wraparound, green tinted shades, almost exactly like the pair he always wore. Gene stared at the gift in silence. His eyes were expressive, he knew, transmitting emotions that he had long ago learned to strike from his face. Worse, they were mimics of his mother's eyes, the exact same strange shade of lavender-grey. It was a Khan family trait. He wore the shades to protect himself, to hide the emotions that would otherwise be exposed and to cease being reminded of his mom every time he looked in a mirror.

They were his walls, keeping a defensive barrier between him and the rest of the world. Zhang had taken his and crushed them underneath one armored boot. And Tony was offering them back.

"What… what do you want from me?" he whispered, his voice catching on the words. There _had_ to be something, a selfish reason, a hidden agenda, some plot that Gene just couldn't see. He looked into Tony's clear blue eyes and saw nothing malevolent at all. Tony Stark was as he had always been: an honest soul and a decent individual. Gene felt filthy in comparison. His determination to stand firm melted and he sidestepped away.

Tony made no move to stop him. He watched the distance between them grow with a slightly sad smile. "I want you to feel better, Gene. That's all. I know you won't believe this, but we're actually not all that different, you and I."

Tony's words stabbed at him, chipping away at the walls Gene had long ago constructed around himself. He rubbed his chest, as if he could alleviate the pain that way. No, no, it wasn't true. They were extremely different; worlds apart. So contrary to each other that Gene couldn't understand Tony at all. Hastily he donned the glasses, not wanting Stark to see him so… exposed. The world took on a green hue; the familiarity made him feel instantly better, safer somehow. But it didn't stop the pain in his chest.

He shuddered, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. "You're killing me, Stark," he muttered, because that's what it felt like.

"You're probably just starving to death," Tony responded in a joking tone. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

The inventor departed, leaving Gene to speculate that if he saw the world through green-tinted shades, then surely Tony wore rose-colored ones.

* * *

**A/N: **They have never really shown us Gene's eyes, except for the few flashbacks which took place at night. I didn't want them to be the same color as Zhang's, which are grey, so I made them lavender. It's kind of girly… but hopefully not too bad. I also hope that Pepper didn't seem too OOC. She strikes me as having a quick temper and as being very protective of Tony and the secret. So it might take her a while to adjust to the whole Gene thing. This will carry on for another chapter or so… but hang in there Pepper fans. She'll get her chance to come around.


	12. Stir crazy

**Chapter Twelve:**

Gene tapped on the force field that prevented him from getting to the door, watching as ripples of energy undulated out from the point of contact. Damn Stark and his inventions; would he never forget to activate the stupid thing? He struck the field harder, knowing from past experience that it would gain him nothing, but needing to get his frustration out. The monitoring computer gave a warning beep.

He snarled in response. "When I get my rings back I'm going to smash you into little bits, melt your circuits into puddles of goo and teleport them to the four corners of the Earth."

"In another pleasant mood, I see."

Gene gave an involuntary jerk as Pepper Potts' image sprang up on a video screen inset into the wall; he had believed himself to be alone. He took a step back from the force field, crossing his arms in front of the dark green shirt he was wearing and affixing an aloof expression on his face. He did not want to give the flame-haired girl the satisfaction of knowing she had startled him.

"Potts," he said by way of greeting. "Where's Stark?"

"Off doing something heroic and good, which I'm sure you know nothing about. Want me to get you a dictionary so you can look up the definitions?"

"Off doing something stupid, you mean."

"No, the only time Tony is stupid is when he wastes his time on you."

Gene snorted. That was a point on which they agreed, not that he'd ever admit so much out loud. They exchanged disgruntled glares. Gene was torn when it came to Pepper. As one of Tony's closest friends, she had made it perfectly clear that she didn't trust him and would not easily forgive him, sentiments he actually welcomed whole-heartedly. They made him feel far less guilty than Stark's attitude of forgiveness.

And sometimes he even enjoyed verbally sparring with the quick-witted girl; the activity reminded him of school, only he didn't have to pull his punches in hopes of winning her trust anymore. It was a delicious touch of normalcy for him. When Rhodes spoke to him, it was always in short, monotone sentences, while his eyes darted nervously about, refusing to make contact.

They both _knew_, of course; damn them and Stark to the darkest corner of hell. Not just that he had been the Mandarin, but the other, far more shameful detail that Gene would have rather taken silently to his grave.

Gene _hated_ that they knew; there were days when he couldn't stand looking at any of them… especially himself. The nice thing about Potts was that she gave the least indication that she knew. Rhodes was nicer… or at least more tolerant about the fact that Gene was here, but the knowledge was written all over his face, making them both extremely uncomfortable with interacting.

On the other hand, Pepper's temper matched her hair and Gene's confinement made him overly irritable as well. Taking quick verbal snipes at each other when Stark wasn't around was one thing, but the last time had escalated into an all out war, with the red-head getting the last word literally when she had spitefully triggered the med-lab's security settings which immediately gassed and restrained him. Waking up bound to the bed had triggered a panic attack that, of course, all three of them had witnessed.

The shame of that aside, the whole incident had been a nice little slap to the face; a reminder that no matter how nice and amiable Stark seemed, Gene was in fact his prisoner, powerless and at the mercy of Tony's technology. And despite Stark's reassurances that he had fixed things so that it would never happened again, Gene didn't quite trust his words to be the truth.

He paced away from the video screen restlessly, weighing his need for information against his current disdain for Tony's self-appointed protector. The need for information won out.

"He's not up to anything _too_ stupid, I hope?" Gene fished.

"Aw, pretending to be concerned about Tony? How cute!"

"Pepper! Stop antagonizing Gene," Rhodey's voice came faintly over the link.

"I'm not!" the girl shouted back over her shoulder. Then she switched her attention back to Gene. "It's just a bank robbery. Iron Man is only involved because the crooks are wielding some high-tech weapons that may have come from the vault. Nothing to worry about. Hey, want to help with Tony's homework? Great!"

The screen went black; the door to the med-lab opened and a small slot appeared in the force field. Clad in her usual pink oriented outfit, Pepper slid Tony's backpack through the hole and had the force field reinstated and the door slammed shut before Gene could respond.

"Great," the teen mocked in a falsetto tone.

For a moment he stared at the overly stuffed bag, seriously considering ignoring it. Undoubtedly, Pepper was supposed to be doing the homework and she would be the one to get in trouble if it went unfinished. Then, rolling his eyes at himself and life in general, Gene retrieved the heavy thing, dragging it to the pair of chairs he had been allowed and depositing it next to the good one. The other metal framed chair had been bent by Gene beating it against the force field for almost an hour one night when he had felt particularly aggravated. Now it teetered dangerously when sat upon.

With a sigh that seemed to come from the bottoms of his feet, the teen flopped down into the solid chair. He stared at the backpack without enthusiasm.

As it had in the Tong prison, time moved slowly here. Gene marked its passage by the number of bandages that came off his body as the days crept by. He could also keep track by the ebb and flow of Tony's visits. The teen would always come in the morning, bearing food and a daily paper, and again after school. Sometimes he did his homework in the room, filling the silence with reports on the unimportant school day events; other times he came and went quickly, with an apologetic smile and murmured, "Got stuff to do; see you later."

'Stuff' translated into Iron Man, Gene had swiftly figured out; and before Rhodes and Potts had begun talking to him he had been left to hope that Tony was tackling ordinary criminals and not a Makluan ring wearing crime lord. Those had been the worst times, when he'd have to sit and wait and worry, half expecting Zhang to come teleporting into his room, Iron Man's crushed helmet grasped in one giant gauntlet. He'd gladly put up with Pepper's snide remarks and Rhodey's shame-inducing demeanor if it meant finding out what Stark was up to.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the Mandarin made his move; each slowly passing day brought the inevitably of it all closer and closer. A week and a half had passed since his rescue. Knowing his step-father, Gene reckoned the man was using his informants inside various law enforcement agencies to search for Gene in Witness Protection and Child Welfare programs. That would have been the logical thing for Iron Man to do: hand him over to law enforcement. That is, if Iron Man hadn't been piloted by a foolish teenaged boy with an oversized brain, a boy-scout complex and little to no common sense.

Once Zhang was done looking in the logical places, he'd turn his attention back to Iron Man. Gene dreaded that day. He _knew_ it was coming, felt it in his bones. Time, no matter how slowly it passed, was still creeping forward, dragging them inexorably towards a conflict Tony could not win.

As the Mandarin, Gene had never actually tried to destroy Iron Man; there had been no point. Even with only one ring he had known who would win. And Zhang the Usurper was far more ruthless than Gene had ever been. He'd tear through the red and gold armor like it was tissue paper, pry Tony from its core and torture the boy until he gave up Gene. He'd go after the Rhodes family, probably the Potts' too.

Gene rubbed his fingers against his temple as the familiar sensations of guilt and trepidation threatened to overwhelm him. If only he could get out of here before it happened. But the opportunity had yet to present itself.

Gene even had a plan for what to do if he escaped. He'd allow himself to be seen in the city (thus eliminating any threat to Stark) and then disappear to go after the third ring. Tony had confided both the location- an island off the coast of Greenland, and his own personal desire to go after it sans Pepper and Rhodey. He feared risking the lives of his two best friends again; the Temple of Wisdom had been so dangerous.

The confined teen rolled his eyes and wondered if he was the only one who could see the irony. After all, Tony risked his friends every time he donned his garish armor and went out to fight criminals, especially with the Mandarin lurking about, waiting for an opportunity to strike. They'd probably all be safer in Greenland; Zhang wouldn't find them there. Then Gene wouldn't have to waste his time with worry every time Stark went out to play hero.

Grimacing, the teen leaned forward and opened Stark's backpack, wincing slightly as his still healing back gave a twinge. Doing Stark's homework would help pass the time.

He pulled out the Math and Physics books and pushed them aside. Not that Gene couldn't do the work, but he didn't see the point when Stark was likely ten times faster at it. History, Rhodes could handle. That left English and Drama, both easy subjects for Gene.

English required an essay about Camus and the subject of existentialism. Stark's notes started off on topic but quickly morphed into what looked like a mad scientist's experiment. The teen snorted softly. Like father, like son. Howard Stark's diary had been like this; one idea meshed into another, seemingly unrelated concept.

Drama class had moved past Shakespeare and onto 'Don Quixote de la Mancha', the play version. The assignment: typical 'did you actually read the play' questions. Gene smirked. A play about a fool playing hero and tilting at windmills; he should sit Stark down and make him read it cover to cover. But, he _did_ need something to do.

Pulling out a ballpoint pen and some paper, he got to work. Questions one and two were easily answered from memory; for question three, however, Gene had to flip through the play. A piece of folded paper fell out of the book; he bent down and picked it up left handed. Curious, he opened it.

Gene stared. Sketched out on the notebook paper was the Iron Man armor, a detailed technical drawing off to the side listed specs for an improvement Tony wanted to make to the armor's targeting system. He had done this at school, where anyone could have seen it.

Terror seized Gene's heart. It would be nothing for the Tong to infiltrate the Tomorrow Academy, to spy on Tony Stark. Surely Zhang would have found it suspicious: his step-son being rescued by the hero almost immediately after Stark's escape. What if he _knew_? What if the bank robbery was a distraction and he was coming here _now_?

Gene closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He recognized the impending panic attack for what it was and attempted to suppress it. A full body tremor shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth. His hands spasmed shut; Gene heard a snap. Opening his eyes, he saw that the ballpoint in his right hand had been snapped in two. Black ink oozed over his digits, dripping to the floor. The sharp, chemical scent hit his nose; it was sickeningly familiar.

"_Clumsy child! What have you done?"_

Gene shook his head, trying hard to concentrate on the here and now. "It's... it's just my hand. Only my hand is dirty. I'll wash it off. Everything is fine." He stood abruptly, book and papers tumbling unnoticed to the floor. He held the offending hand away from him, breathing through his mouth so that the smell couldn't get to him. But it was too late for that.

"_Look at the mess you have made of this paper! How many times must I teach you these strokes? Are you trying to embarrass me in front of your esteemed grandfather on purpose?"_

Black ink dripped off his hand like blood. It stained the white tiles as he crossed the bathroom floor; it fell like dark teardrops into the sink.

"I'm not," Gene whispered a denial to his step-father. He turned on the cold water and plunged his hand under the flow, watching as the tainted liquid circled the formerly pristine sink and got sucked down the drain. Tainted… like him.

"_My apologies, Mandarin. Although I am attempting to teach the boy our ways, he is slow and stupid. I fear he has been too tainted by the West to embrace his proper heritage."_

_Gene stared as the ink blot on his paper grew larger, consuming the carefully drawn Chinese characters he had just finished printing out. Unfamiliar with the calligraphy pen, the seven year old had failed once again to please his step-father. Glancing up at the dragon throne, he flinched as the Mandarin shifted his position. _

_Zhang put his hand on the back of Gene's head. "Bow down and beg forgiveness," he ordered, forcing the boy's head down sharply. _

_His nose pressed against the offending ink spot, Gene gasped an apology. "Forgive me, Grandfather; I am sorry."_

_His new step-father cuffed the back of his skull. "Forgive me, __Mandarin__," he corrected._

"_Enough, Zhang. The child is obviously trying his best." _

_The deep, rumbling voice made Zhang take a step back. Gene kept his head down, even though the sharp smell of the still wet ink was making him sick. His step-father was bad enough, but his grandfather and his evil-looking armor terrified him._

"_My apologies, my Master. I am merely concerned. This child is an outsider's son, raised in the western way. I fear he will not make a worthy heir to your noble heritage. I would gladly provide you another heir to the blood, but your daughter refuses to fulfill her duties as my wife."_

_The Mandarin rose from the dragon throne, each heavy, metallic step echoing throughout the surrounding chamber. "My daughter has married you, as I promised to your family long ago. I am aware that she has performed all the duties traditionally required, including taking care of your needs as man. What, exactly, is your complaint?"_

"_She is refusing her duty to me, her husband, and to you, her Master, to bear more heirs to the Khan bloodline. Is that not forsaking both her wedding vows and her duty to the Tong?"_

"_Silence!" the Mandarin roared. Gene quaked as he came off his dais and clanked towards them. "My daughter has already fulfilled that duty."_

"_Master, this boy is unworthy…"_

"_And yet he remembers his place, as you, Zhang, do not." One giant clawed hand pointed down to the still prostrating Gene. "He is a Khan and my heir and you will do well to remember that. Do not think that because I am old, I am blind to your ambition. If my daughter chooses not to bear another offspring, that decision shall be respected. Am I understood?"_

"_Yes, Master."_

"_Good."_

_A blinding flash of light indicated the Mandarin's departure. Gene cautiously raised his head. His step-father glared down at him, anger and disgust easy to read on his face. Grabbing the front of Gene's shirt, he hauled the child to his feet, forcing him to stand on tiptoes to avoid being choked. Zhang shook him like a rag doll, then tossed him to the floor. Gene skidded over the rough stones, eyes wide as he struggled to regain his footing._

"_You may have the blood of Khan running through your veins, boy, but to the Tong you are nothing but an aberration. Do not think that you will __ever__ become the Mandarin, __grocer's__ son. Now pick up this mess. You will go without food until you can write the entire passage without fault. Go! Now! Get out of my sight!"_

_Gene scrambled to obey, keeping his head ducked to hide his tears. He hated Zhang and his grandfather and his new life amongst the Tong. He hated that he was never good enough or fast enough to please his step-father. He despised feeling helpless. One day, one day he would be strong and then they would all see…_

Gene Khan stared at his filthy hand. Much like his mind, it remained dark and ugly. The ink would not come off. The taint on his soul would not come off. No longer able to fight the urge, he stepped into the shower for the third time that day…

**T.B.C.**

* * *

**A/N**: Another two part chapter, but this time they have different titles. I hope to be able to update soon!


	13. The sad connection

**A/N: **For the sake of this story, Gene was not involved in any way with what he confessed to in episode Twenty-Six 'Tales of Suspense, part two.' That information came way too late for me to incorporate. Howard Stark is presumed to be dead. This story was always going to be A.U.; now it's just a little bit more A.U. than before. Sorry if that disappoints anyone.

This chapter picks up directly where the other one left off. It's a wordy darn thing; lots of dialogue. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Thirteen:**

"Well, that was easy." With a confident smirk, Tony climbed out of the exo-suit, leaving it in its docking bay.

"Right," Pepper agreed. "You did great! Oooh, except for the part where you accidentally blew a hole in the bank's safe, scattering the money all over the street, causing a riot, three car crashes and the destruction of that little old lady's flower cart. But other than that…"

Tony had the decency to look abashed. "Well… I stopped the bad guys, didn't I?"

"You did do that. Seriously though, next time it might be safer for everyone if you just let them rob the bank." Rhodey contributed with a smile.

"Thanks guys. Your support is really…" Tony trailed off as he scanned one of his computer displays. "How long has Gene been in the shower?"

"What? Gene's not in the… he was doing your homework a minute ago."

Tony rewound the video footage, noting the time the teen, ghostly pale, got out of the chair.

"See, Tony? It's only been half an hour. That's normal… sort of."

"Not if you count the two showers he took this morning and the hour and a half he spent in there yesterday." Tony stalked off towards the medical lab, his two compatriots trailing behind him.

"Tony, I've been doing some research and from what I've read, this is typical behavior for someone who's been… you know." Rhodey trailed off.

"It's just a shower. If it makes him feel better, who cares?" Pepper added.

"I care. The hot water tank in this place is tiny. After about fifteen minutes the water goes cold and he just stands in there anyways. He's going to get sick if he keeps this up." The group had reached the med-lab. Tony punched in the code to deactivate the force field.

"So just program the computer to shut off the water after the temperature drops below a certain degree."

Tony blinked at his practical best friend, and then offered a sheepish smile. "Yeah… I guess I could do that."

Fingers dancing over the medical lab's computer interface, Tony brought up the proper sub menu and started inserting the necessary lines of code. His conscience tickled him; it felt wrong to take yet another of Gene's few freedoms away, the teen had so little control over his own life at the moment as it was. On the other hand, Tony _hated_ Gene's showers. It was like he was punishing or blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault. _Zhang _was the dirty one, not Gene, and it was Zhang who needed to be punished.

Tony kept his head down, knowing his simmering rage would be easy for his friends to discern on his face. If only he had a ring of his own to experiment on; Tony was sure he could develop countermeasures to whatever type of technology powered the ancient Chinese devices. Like a localized E.M.P. generator, only geared towards the Makluan energy frequency.

There had to be _something_ technological he could do, because right now, according to Gene, the only ways to interrupt the rings' power were to remove them from the hand of the Mandarin, or destroy the last Khan. Option one was improbable and option two: unthinkable. He was seriously considering flying out to Greenland to retrieve the third ring, but he didn't want to endanger Rhodey and Pepper by subjecting them to another temple, nor did he feel right about leaving Gene here unprotected. Especially since he couldn't seem to step out for a few hours without something like this happening.

"And… done." The computer's monitor showed the water, already below the programmed temperature parameters, being turned off. "I just wish I knew what triggered him. Then maybe…"

"Tony, this isn't like a glitch in a computer system. You can't just pull out your tools and fix the problem. Humans don't work that way." Rhodey patted the teen inventor's shoulder. "We'll just have to deal with these things as they occur until you find a way to defeat the Mandarin. Then maybe we can get Gene some real help."

"Um, not until Tony figures out a way of erasing his memory. Otherwise Gene will tell the world that he's Iron Man."

Tony rubbed his hand over his face. He loved his friends, but not the realities they kept bringing up. "Look, I'm going to go check on Gene. Why don't you two go up to the house and bring down some food or something."

Rhodey smiled at him, but Pepper suddenly looked unsure. She squirmed a little, bouncing the toe of one foot off the ground repeatedly. Clearing her throat, she refused to meet Tony's gaze as she murmured, "Tell Gene that if it was something I said… I'm sorry."

"What? Pepper, you promised!"

"I did and I meant it. I mean, I didn't really _say _anything at all and he seemed okay…"

"Never mind. Just go. I don't want to hear it."

Pepper's face stiffened. "He's still a bad guy, you know. Just because he got hurt doesn't change what he did before; what he'd _still_ be doing if Zhang hadn't returned."

Tony turned his back. It was all he could do to keep a lid on his temper. Deep down he knew Pepper was right, but he was too angry to care. Without looking back he entered the medical lab, shutting the door sharply behind him.

The deep seated frustration he was experiencing was mirrored on the face of the wet-haired teen standing before him. Then Gene's face smoothed into passivity; only his eyes, glittering behind his glasses, showed any emotion.

"So," the other boy's voice carried a distinct caustic edge, "I take it I am no longer _permitted _to clean myself? That's nice; I was starting to feel homesick."

Tony sighed. Arguing with Pepper was bad enough; he didn't want to fight with Gene too. "It's not like that. The water will only shut off when the hot water tank runs out. I don't want you to get sick."

"Your concern is touching, Stark. Maybe you should save it for your _real_ friends. Like Potts, for instance. She's right, you know. If my step-father hadn't retaken the rings, I'd still be the Mandarin. And I'd still be using you."

"You could hear all that?"

"When the force field is down, the door is thin."

Tony frowned. The force field was still down; he wondered if Gene knew that. Remembering what his father had said about trust, Tony took a casual step away from the door. "Let me ask you something. If things hadn't changed for you, and you had found out that I was Iron Man, what would you do?"

"Use it against you, of course."

"How?"

Gene idly scratched at the back of his right hand. No matter how hard he had scrubbed at it, he swore that he could still smell the ink. "Easy. People like you are easy to manipulate. You care too much. If you had a ring, for instance, the Mandarin could threaten to reveal your secret unless you surrendered it. Or I could have the Tong 'kidnap' me, to hold in exchange for the ring. That would probably work better. Or I could save myself a lot of trouble and just teleport in and take it while you're out fighting a staged crime…"

Gene pursed his lips as he considered. He rubbed the back of his hand hard against his pants as he did so. Still the smell haunted him. Glancing down, he saw 'Don Quixote' and the remnants of the broken ballpoint. Scowling, he picked up the book. Spatters of black ink dotted the pages.

"Gene? What's wrong with your hand? It's all red and you keep scratching at it."

Gene blinked slowly, and then stared at Tony as if he had forgotten the other boy was there. Frowning, he glanced at the back of his hand. It was irritated. How long had he been bothering with it? What was infinitely more important and distracting, however, was the fact that Tony was now a few steps farther away from the door. Potts and Rhodes had been sent away and Gene was almost positive the damnable force field was still off. It would be easy to get past Stark. Unless…

The questions, the temptation… Gene _knew _this game. Rage spiked in him.

"What's your deal, Stark? You think this is funny, playing with me like this? Is this how the great and noble Iron Man gets his kicks?"

Taken aback by the sudden attack, Tony raised his hands slightly. "Whoa. What are you talking about?"

"_This_!" Gene hurled the book as hard as he could towards the door. It ricocheted off the white painted metal, proving the force field was indeed off, and bounced back towards Gene, a few loose pages fluttering to the floor.

"If I make a break for it, what's your computer going to do to me? Gas me? Tie me back down to the bed? You're just waiting for me to cross the line, aren't you? You think I don't know that one wrong answer, one misstep and you'll lock me up again. You'll lock me up and… and…"

Gene swallowed hard. Tony looked as if he had been struck sharply across the face. His blue eyes were wide and round, his mouth slightly agape. Gene didn't need his skills in reading people to see the raw, naked hurt in Tony's eyes. And lurking beneath that, sorrow.

He had been wrong again. The non-existent 'game' he had been seeing was the one that Zhang had played with him countless times over the past three years. Always testing his supposed loyalty, always using bait and switch tactics. Learning to recognize and correctly respond to Zhang's set-ups had been necessary, not only for Gene's personal well being, but also in order to place him in a position to seize the ring. But Tony… Tony Stark was no Zhang.

The teen inventor's mouth opened and closed silently, too struck by the accusation to speak. A wave of guilt and regret quashed any remaining fire in Gene's spirit. He couldn't stand looking at Stark anymore; his gaze fell to the floor. Finally, his would-be rescuer found his voice.

"Gene… I'm not… I _wouldn't_…"

Taking an uneven breath, Gene held up his right hand, the back facing Tony. "I got ink on it when I broke the pen. It … wouldn't come off in the sink. It was dirty so I had to wash it. _I'm_ dirty. You need to understand that. I'm like toxic waste. Everything around me becomes twisted and tainted, just like me. I don't want…"

Gene's voice broke and he mentally berated himself for his incessant weakness. He wished Tony would just leave. Maybe get mad and yell at him first, like he deserved, but then leave. But the room was silent; Stark didn't move or speak. Gene hazarded a glance in his captor's direction. And then he stared. For it wasn't anger or disgust on display on Stark's countenance, but grief. Gene blinked, not comprehending the reaction.

"You look like someone whose dog got run over."

A soft, sad smile. "My friend got hurt and I don't know how to help."

"I'm sure I wouldn't understand. I guess I'm lucky like that. People like me don't _have_ friends. We have minions and underlings, the occasional ally, dupes that we use, and of course, enemies. But never _friends_."

"That sounds sad… and lonely."

"It's safer that way; better for everyone." A self-deprecating smile flitted across Gene's face. Bless him, curse him, Stark wasn't going to stop trying. He could probably transform into the Mandarin and run the boy through with a clawed gauntlet and _still _Stark would hold out his hand. The question was: why? Had he no sense of self-preservation at all?

Gene stared at a few of the scattered pages of Cervantes' masterpiece, the post paranoia lucidity granting him a sudden epiphany. Not looking up, he whispered the words, "You can't save me, Stark. And even if you could, it wouldn't bring him back."

The silence was so absolute, Gene could hear the beating of his own heart. He felt dirty as soon as the words left his lips, even though he knew in his heart that they were true. What was wrong with him? Usually he kept his insights to himself, sealed away to be used against those he observed. Worse, he had probably hurt Tony... _again_.

Gene couldn't stare at the floor forever. Tentatively, he raised his gaze. And froze. Because Stark was smiling at him, a real, genuine smile. His eyes were tear-bright and yet he was smiling, as if Gene had said something clever instead of cruel. Gene's chest hurt; he resisted the urge to rub it. It was that weird sensation again, a pain that was different from the others he had experienced.

Over the years he had built up a certain resistance to Zhang's usual tactics: the verbal abuse, the physical threats. Even when hurt, he knew how to hide it well. He could make his face a blank mask and retreat behind his inner walls where blows were dulled and sharp words lost their sting. But somehow Stark negated his defenses, penetrating like there was nothing there at all.

Gene hated this feeling, this absurd notion that it was okay to be weak; that even if he curled up into a ball and sobbed and begged forgiveness, somehow it would still be okay, he would still be accepted. Because it was a dangerous notion and a lie. Trusting people was a fool's errand; shown weakness would always be exploited. He _knew_ this; he had learned it all long ago. Then why? Why did it hurt?

Tony cleared his throat; he stooped to pick up a few of the loose pages from his ruined book. He casually changed topics. "I noticed you didn't mention using Rhodey and Pepper against me, you know, if you had known that I was Iron Man."

Gene snorted softly. He picked 'Don Quixote' off the floor and held it loosely in his hand. "That would be unnecessary overkill. You'd respond just as quickly to a threat against your 'innocent people' and without the anger a personal attack would provoke."

"But Zhang would; wouldn't he?"

Gene nodded, glad Stark was taking his step-father seriously. "Without hesitation or remorse. In most cases, Zhang is a blunt instrument, with no use for subtlety. With the power of the Mandarin, there is little need for caution. Especially when facing an enemy one does not respect." Gene gave Tony an apologetic half-smile before his lips twisted into a less agreeable expression. "Of course, it does not matter if one deals with a club or a sword. Even if the methods are different, both can hurt… or kill. You were a fool to get involved in this, Stark. You should have stayed away."

He blinked and gave an involuntary flinch. When had Tony gotten so close to him? Ignoring his obvious surprise, Tony smiled gently and held out his hand, the loose pages of 'Don Quixote' contained in his grasp. Gene frowned, unable to quell his suspicious nature. Hesitantly, he reached for the offered pages. Tony's smile widened. His hand met Gene's halfway, deliberately touching him during the transfer. Gene jerked his hand back as if stung, taking a step backwards for good measure. The blue-eyed boy's smile faded a bit about the edges, but still remained. He held up his offensive hand.

"You see me so well sometimes that it's scary. I wish you could see yourself as clearly." Tony twisted his hand back and forth, showing Gene both sides of it. "See. I'm not hurt. My hand isn't dirty. Maybe you're not as toxic as you think."

"Maybe you're just too stupid to see it."

"Nope, not a chance. I'm a genius, remember?"

"You're a fool," Gene muttered, but there was no venom to his words.

* * *

Pepper threw herself into one of the factory's upper level lounge chairs so hard that it scooted backwards across the floor.

"Stupid Tony, stupid _Gene_… stupid me."

She covered her eyes with her hands, her insides a convoluted turmoil of emotions. She hadn't _meant_ to listen in; really, she had come back to the armory with the best of intentions. She didn't like it when Tony got mad at her and it wasn't her fault he had left the medical lab's camera system on and the force field down. All she had wanted to do was apologize but instead…

This was all Gene's fault anyways. Him and his stupid rings and evil step-father and, and… damn insight.

She had always known he was no good, but would Tony listen to her? Noooo… instead he had made friends with the boy. Gene didn't even really have to try; Tony had just invited him in. Not that she was jealous or anything. Okay, maybe a little. It was just that Pepper didn't have many friends; most people found her annoying for some reason, not that she cared, but this was high school and it had been the best day of her life when Tony and Rhodey didn't shove her away like so many of the others had.

And then she had joined 'Team Iron Man', as she liked to think of it - how cool was that? She had always known that she'd go into a career in law enforcement. SHIELD was her goal, but the FBI would do too. Right was right and wrong was wrong; Pepper had a good, strong moral compass and helping Tony smack down the bad guys was a dream come true for her.

All of a sudden she had friends and she had been trusted with a Very Important Secret and she was doing some real good, fighting evil just like her dad… And for once she had felt special, like she truly belonged. Being Tony's friend and ally was so important to her; she had believed them to be close… so why hadn't she seen it?

When Gene had told Tony that saving him 'wouldn't bring him back', she had been waiting for Tony to vehemently deny _that_ being his motivation for anything. She wanted him to frown and tell Khan that being Iron Man was about fighting bad guys and helping people and it was super cool and had nothing really to do with Howard Stark, except maybe following his dream of using technology for good. She had wanted to burst into the room and tell Gene that Tony was smart and funny and adventuresome and most of all: _good_, and _that's_ why he was Iron Man. It had nothing to do with sadness or guilt.

But Tony had smiled, really smiled.

And she had known then that Gene, _damn_ _him_, Gene had been right.

And she had never seen it.

She sniffled a little. It wasn't fair. She had known Tony longer and they were far closer as friends. Gene was a liar and a cheat and a really big jerk. And it was like he didn't even have to try to…

"Hello? I'm back. I've got turkey, tomato and swiss, ham and cheese, and PB and J." Rhodey struggled to shut the door while juggling his big bag of food. "Don't get up and help me or anything."

Pepper looked up from her chair and Rhodey froze. Had the red-head been crying? His mild irritation vanished, replaced by a feeling akin to panic. Crying girls were way outside the situations he knew how to handle. Should he quietly leave? Continue on while pretending he didn't notice? Silently hoping that the Iron Man alarm would go off and save him, Rhodey awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Um… hey, Pepper. Did you find your phone?"

"Gene knows Tony better than I do!" she burst out in a sob.

"Er…" Trapped now, Rhodey had no choice but to go over to the troubled girl. He dumped his bag of food in one of the empty chairs and deposited himself into the other one. Gingerly he patted the girl on the shoulder. Thankfully, after the initial gush of tears, Pepper quieted.

Still feeling like he was treading on thin ice, Rhodey cleared his throat. "Um, when you said you had to head back for your phone, I kind of thought you were coming back here to make peace with Tony."

"I was. But he was still talking to Gene and the stupid computer monitors were on and it was so stupid but he was right and I never saw it and…"

"Whoa! Slow down Pepper. What exactly happened?"

So Pepper recounted the whole tale, emphasizing that she hadn't meant to spy. After she told of Gene's comment and Tony's reaction, she turned to look at Rhodey, who was staring across the mostly empty industrial space with a thoughtful gaze. He spoke slowly and cautiously.

"You know, Tony had the exo-suit on board the plane when it crashed. He couldn't have done anything with it; heck, he'd never even used it before, but… I'm not surprised that it would haunt him that he survived and Howard didn't."

"But that's stupid; he's never said anything like that at all and how would Gene know about it anyways?"

"Gene… When it comes to Tony, Gene can be pretty insightful. It's like he sees a part of Tony that we don't, that we can't. I don't know if Tony hides it from us on purpose, or if we just can't relate. I know he seems pretty happy and well-adjusted, but when you think about it, the dude's lost everything… He's got to have some pretty negative emotions roiling around inside. I see it sometimes: he gets so angry and frustrated that it scares me a little."

Pepper crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Fine," she said tersely. "Tony's conflicted and he's hiding stuff from us _again_. But that doesn't explain how Gene knows. Do you think Tony tells him stuff when we're not around? Like he doesn't trust us even after all we've been through?"

"No, no… I don't think it's like that at all. Remember when we were in the Temple of Wisdom; and Gene and I fell into a different chamber than you and Tony? Well, I kind of confronted Gene about how he was fueling Tony's obsession with the rings."

"Which he _was_, the big, deceitful _jerk_!"

"You know what he said? That Tony was trying to follow his father's dream and a real friend would support him. And after I cooled down I realized that he was right. Finding the rings is the only part of Howard that Tony has left: he can't run the business until he's eighteen, and he constantly has to destroy his dad's inventions that turn up on the street. Gene had seen his motivation so clearly, while I was so frustrated with what I saw as an unreasonably dangerous obsession that I missed it entirely."

"So what are you saying? That Gene is smarter than us? More special? A better friend?" Pepper snorted to convey her opinion of the last one.

"Ever hear Gene mention his mom or his biological father? He had to have had a real family at some point. I bet he lost them and that's why he can relate to Tony so well. You and I, we have parents. Sure, my mom can get busy and my dad's overseas a lot; but if I needed them, they'd be here for me. I can't imagine how it would feel if they were both gone forever, if I didn't have a family."

"Tony _has_ a family. He has you and your mom and _me_."

"And we can offer sympathy and support, but we can never truly understand his loss."

Pepper chewed on her lower lip as she silently stared across the upper level of the factory.

"For what it's worth, Pepper, I understand how you feel. I don't really like Gene either. But I think it might be good for Tony to have someone who understands his pain."

"Even if that someone is an evil, manipulative, slimy jerk?"

"Even if. And who knows? Maybe it's good for Gene too. He was right about one more thing: real friends are supportive. If we're constantly questioning Tony or shooting down his ideas, we can't expect him to come to us when he needs someone to trust with his confidences. So while I'm not entirely happy with Gene being here, or knowing that Tony is Iron Man, I intend to pick my battles. This one isn't worth fighting."

Rhodey rose and offered Pepper a smile. "Come on. Let's take the sandwiches down. We still have all that homework to do."

"No. You go. I've got to think about some things. In fact, I'm going home. Tell Tony I'll see him tomorrow."

Rhodey sighed. Then he nodded. "Will do, Pepper. Will do."


	14. Elusive freedom

**Chapter Fourteen:**

_Gene floated on a body of warm water. Darkness ruled the landscape; the only source of light came from the stars glittering by the hundreds in the endless expanse of night sky. Gene felt the tension leave his body. It was so peaceful here, so quiet. The temperate water soothed his spirit as it encompassed him, holding him safe and buoyant._

_A tiny corner of his mind trilled a warning, but he ignored it. What could bother him here? As he gazed at the dazzling night display, two stars began to stand out from the rest. One developed a purplish hue, the other glowed green. They descended from the heavens; their colors intensifying as they neared. It was a trick of the light, Gene mused, that made them seem so close that he could almost reach up his hand and touch them._

_He was so comfortable he didn't feel like moving, but he couldn't help but think that the purple and green glows were important somehow. Knowing how silly it was to try and touch stars, Gene attempted lifting his arm anyways, only to find it stuck in the warm, surrounding substance._

"_Don't go, Gene," a familiar voice called from the dark._

"_Don't go," echoed in the night._

_Alarm pushed the calm from his mind. He made a real effort to free his arms from the fluid, but it clung to his limbs thick and heavy, sucking him downward with every struggle. All the while, a calm distant voice called to him, telling him to relax and let go, that it would be okay._

_But it wasn't okay. Panic fueled adrenaline hit him hard, giving him just enough strength to free one arm. Dripping black goo, his fingers reached for the glow of the Makluan rings. Reached even as Gene felt himself sinking further downward, the warmth creeping up his neck, inching towards his mouth and nose. He had to reach the rings; he had to break free!_

"Gene" _that insistent voice called. _"Gene."

_But if he listened he would drown. The deceptive warmth was up to his chin now; Gene kept his lips pressed tightly together even as his breath wheezed sharply in and out of his nostrils. He stretched, stretched, his trembling fingers just brushing the gold bands…_

"Gene, wake up!"

Startled by the sudden urgency of the persistent voice and the abrupt flood of blinding white light, Gene Khan jerked awake. Lurching away from his unexpected visitor blindly, he fell off the bed and onto the cold, hard floor. The panic of his suffocating dream clinging to him, he squinted his eyes against the bright light, trying desperately to free himself from the restrictive tangle of blankets.

"Ouch. Gene, are you okay? Computer, cut lights by fifty percent."

There was an acknowledging beep and suddenly Gene could see again. A familiar brown-haired, blue-eyed youth peeked at him from the foot of his bed. "Are you alright?" the boy asked again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. You looked like you were having a nightmare so I just thought… um, sorry."

Stark. Of course it would be Stark. The teen seemed to have a personal front seat pass to Gene's every moment of embarrassment and vulnerability. Worse, his voice reminded Gene of his dream. It had been Stark's voice whispering to him from the darkness, telling him to stop struggling.

Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, Gene looked up to find Tony standing above him, silently offering him a hand up. Roughly pushing it aside, Gene rose on his own power. Kicking the mess of bedding away from his feet, he straightened out his sleep clothes, an oversized shirt and pair of sweatpants, before facing Stark, who was still standing there with an abashed look on his face.

Gene sighed. As his suffocating panic subsided, irrational ire rose in its place. With a frown, Gene tried to force it back down. _Stark's voice was probably part of my dream because he was trying to wake me up. I should be grateful, not angry at him. _He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his face falling into its usual mask of indifference. He reached for his shades and put them on. His temper contained behind his normal walls, he could finally deal with his visitor.

"What time is it?" he queried after clearing his throat a couple of times.

"Um, a little after three in the morning, the last time I looked."

Gene raised an eyebrow at that. "Iron Man?" he hazarded a guess.

"What? No, no. I was working on something in the lab… well, the whole armory, actually. I just finished and was starting to clean up and I happened to glance at the monitors, not that I watch you when you sleep or anything – that would be creepy. Anyways, you were kind of scrunched up in a ball and you didn't look happy so I came in and woke you up. Probably less gently than I should have?" The words came out haltingly at the end, his voice rising slightly, making the sentence half question and half apology.

Gene's mouth had fallen open slightly. He pushed his shades so that he could rub his eyes again and take another look at his visitor, just in case his dream-addled mind had somehow confused Potts for Stark. When the person remained distinctly male, all Gene could do was shake his head and bite out a confused, "What?"

"Well it was Pepper's idea. Not waking you up, she went home hours ago; altering the force field. But of course she had no idea how difficult it would be to alter the parameters to that degree, not to mention ensuring the frequency didn't interfere with all the computers down here. But once I thought about it, I knew it could be done and then I went to work. It's all done now. Want to see?"

Tony's face sported an enthusiastic ear to ear grin, a fact that should have been impossible given the hour. His rapid pace explanation had made zero sense to Gene. He hadn't seen Potts since the day before yesterday, and so had no idea what kind of Stark-inspiring idea she had come up with. Irritation and vague amusement at the confusing teen's antics warred within him. He kept his ire tightly under control, lest it cost him a valuable opportunity.

Taking a closer look, Gene spotted the tell-tale spider web of red veins creeping in from the corners of Stark's eyes, and the darkening bags developing in his lower lids. Tony's hands shook slightly, even as he stood still. That, coupled with the fact that he was apparently channeling Pepper Potts every time he spoke, prompted Gene to wonder how much caffeine the teen inventor had consumed.

What was infinitely more important, however, was the fact that the hyper fool was apparently offering him a chance to leave the blasted medical lab.

"You want me… to come with you… out there?" Gene pointed at the door, not wanting any confusion on the matter.

"Yeah, come on. I would have waited until morning, but since you're awake and I guess it _is_ morning, you can come see now. Like I said, I just finished."

"O…kay."

Tony led the way, all hyped up energy and enthusiasm. Gene followed cautiously. It all seemed a bit too surreal; before crossing the threshold he extended a hand, watching in bemusement as it met with no resistance.

So it wasn't a cruel, late night prank after all. Feeling slightly foolish for his unnecessary suspicion, Gene couldn't quite suppress a smile as he finally exited the room, regarding for the first time Iron Man's headquarters. Tony, leaning against the door frame, gave him a bold grin as he took it all in.

"What? Didn't I mention that I'm a genius? Come on, I'll give you a tour."

Gene rolled his eyes at the lack of modesty, but followed along anyways. The armory had been divided into sections. The largest area was the central hub, which housed several banks of computers and a huge flat panel monitor, maintenance equipment, worktables and the Communications Center. A storage room shooting off of it was full of overflowing lockers of supplies, half completed gadgets and 'villain tech', as Stark called it. The Iron Man launch center and docking bays also connected to the central hub, as well as the medical lab, with which Gene was already intimately familiar.

After the short meander through the complex, they came back to the ops center. Tony perched himself on a nearby lab table, pushing some tools out of the way to do so, while Gene chose to lean against a wall.

"You still can't go upstairs into the factory," Tony said apologetically. "It doesn't have the security systems in place and pretty much anyone can walk in and out of it. Roberta checks up on us sometimes. And I had to put pass code protection on all the computers. But hey, it's better than just one room, right? Believe it or not, this was Pepper's idea. She said that being locked up all the time would be enough to drive anyone crazy. Er… not that we think that you're less than sane or anything. Just…you know." Stark cleared his throat and glanced away.

Gene's eyes roamed about the room. Not counting the ventilation system, which would be very difficult to access, he counted only three ways out of the armory: the stairs that led to the upper level, secured by a very solid looking steel door at the top, the exo-suit's launching tube – probably impossible to climb without gear, and a door so solid and locked down with tech that it made a bank vault look like tissue paper. And he was willing to bet the force field secured the perimeter, just like it had in the medical lab.

Gene slumped against the wall. The scenery had changed but his situation remained the same. Still trapped, still a prisoner, still no way out. A flashback of his nightmare threatened to overwhelm him. How could he reclaim his birthright if he was stuck here?

The anger he had so successfully quelled began to rattle around in its cage, gnawing on his insides, begging to be released. He was so sick of being at the mercy of others, even well-meaning others like Stark. What was he doing just standing here? Potts was gone, Rhodes was probably at the house in bed and Tony… even if the inventor hadn't been sleep deprived and hopped up on caffeine, Gene was sure he could take the other boy. What was holding him back?

His step-father's mocking voice echoed back at him from some not so distant memory. _"You are weak and foolish; corrupted by the West, just like your mother."_ Gene shuddered, his hands curling into fists.

"Gene? You're not happy, are you?"

"Your powers of observation are truly astounding, Stark."

Catching the hurt expression on Tony's face helped assuage his rising ire… if only temporarily. He did not _want_ to hurt Tony, but he _needed_ to be free. A part of his brain cautioned that if he did this wrong, he would regret it later.

Attachment, how ridiculous. How long had he been avoiding that particular Achilles' heel? And now it seemed it was biting him on the ass, preventing him from physically overpowering Stark and winning his freedom through brute force. Well fine. If his conscience wouldn't allow him to do things the easy way, he'd just do them the hard way. If he couldn't bring himself to use physical force against a passive person, then he'd just use his intellect to convince Tony that it would be too much grief to keep him around. One way or another, he _had_ to be free.

"It… it was nice of you to work so hard on this." Gene managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"But you're not happy."

"Ever visit the zoo? No matter how nice the habitats are, the animals still wear a path pacing the perimeter."

Stark's shoulders started to hunch forward; he looked away. Naïve or not, he could probably sense what was coming.

"Let me go, Stark."

The sixteen year old slumped on the table, all the enthusiasm from before vanished. "You know I can't. The Mandarin…"

"Is _my_ concern, not yours. Or do you actually think you can defeat him?" Gene laughed, the sound harsh in the cavernous lab. "Obadiah Stane is nothing more than a corporate crook; by the law's standards he hasn't really done anything illegal. If he thought like Zhang, you would be dead by now and Stark International would be his permanently. Fighting him in your tin suit has done nothing to prepare you for Zhang. I have been waiting my whole life to defeat the man. It is _my_ destiny, not yours. You were never meant to be involved. Just let me go, Stark. Playing hero will only get you and your friends killed."

"And what do you intend to do? Fight him with your biting sarcasm and caustic wit? Why can't you just admit that you can't do this alone? You had the rings before and lost them. What makes you think that the next time will end any differently? This place may not be perfect, but at least you're not tied down on a bed waiting to be…"

Tony's rant ended abruptly as his lips pressed tightly together, preventing him from saying the unthinkable. He glanced over at Gene; the Asian boy's face hosted a smirk, the half-shrouded eyes sparked behind the green tinted shades. He pushed away from the wall he had been standing against; pacing back and forth a short distance, never losing the bitter smile.

"That wasn't the worst thing he's ever done to me." Gene muttered conversationally, almost to himself. "At least he was direct, at least I knew what was going on; I was not fooled into believing that it was something it wasn't. Three years ago it was all deception and deceit. No, for longer than that, probably since the first day I met her; it was all a part of his plan, every bit of it a lie.

That, _that _is what kind of monster he is; the kind that takes a child's grief for his mother and uses it for his own purposes, twists it into a sham love only to shatter it all at my feet. And you think I should _trust _you? Depend on _you,_ accept your hand as if I do not know that you will jerk it away and laugh. Go ahead and _laugh,_ Stark; you know you want to. Maybe that's it; maybe that is why you keep me around, so that you'll have someone to look at who is more pathetic than you."

"Gene…"

"Or maybe you get _off _on it: having power and control over another person's life. The whole superhero thing has to be a bit of a power trip anyway, especially defeating Daddy's inventions, proving who the bigger brain is."

"Stop it, Gene…"

"His will stated that you should go to school and live a normal life. So what do you do? You don an ugly robotic suit and play vigilante; just what New York didn't need. And I thought _I_ had a rebellion problem."

Tony sprang to his feet, anger apparent on his face. "Shut up!"

"Here… I'll give you your fix." Gene dropped to his knees in front of the standing teen. His body's position was both suggestive and mocking but his words were earnest. "_Please_ let me go."

Tony mutely shook his head, his eyes narrowed with the effort of keeping his temper in check. Gene's eyes mirrored the move behind his shades.

"What, not enough?" he mocked from the ground. "Fine. This is how Zhang likes it." He prostrated, pressing both hands and his nose to the floor. "There. Is it good for you now? The mighty superhero has humbled the wicked villain. All we need is for Potts to come swooning into your arms to make the scene complete. I can do this every day if you like. You won't even have to leave the complex to get your blasted superiority fix."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Tony snatched a large pipe wrench and swept it along the surface of the table, sending empty cans and a few random sockets showering down on Gene. He lifted his make-shift weapon up threateningly, just as Gene lifted his head from the floor. Their eyes met and Tony saw not fear, but a flash of triumph in the other boy's orbs. 'Ah-ha', they seemed to crow. 'I knew you would betray me eventually.'

Suddenly sickened by his violent urge to physically remove the small, triumphant smirk from Gene's face, Tony turned and smashed the wrench into a control console, sparks showering around him. The simple-minded destruction felt good. Creation and Destruction, the powers of a god. Wasn't that what Gene was insinuating, that this was why Tony did the whole Iron Man thing? Maybe he had a point.

He raised the wrench for another strike only to have his hand twisted. The heavy pipe wrench clattered loudly to the ground as his arm was brought down and back and up again. _When did Gene get so fast?_ Tony wondered bemusedly as his right arm was effectively pinned behind his back. And if he was capable of this, why hadn't he simply attempted to fight his way free?

A strong hand seized his left wrist as if daring him to try something with it. He needn't have bothered. The raging inferno Gene had provoked extinguished itself as soon as the wrench had left his hand. Feeling exhausted, empty and vaguely sick, Tony slumped forward, forcing Gene to throw an arm in front of his chest to hold him upright. The funny thing was, even after everything that had transpired; Tony had known that Gene would catch him.

After all the nasty words and random violence, the sudden silence was deafening. Only the ragged sounds of breathing filled the air. A giggle escaped Tony's lips; it was all so ridiculous.

"You're right. I do get off on the whole Iron Man thing. Not on the power… the freedom. That's what the rings are for you, right? They represent freedom."

Gene let go of him so abruptly that Tony almost fell flat on his face. Staggering forward, he straightened and turned. Gene backed away from him, looking shocked.

"Hey, what's going on down there? Tony? Are you okay?" Scrubbing his sleepy eyes, Rhodey descended the stairs from the upper level of the factory, where he had crashed hours ago. He froze mid-step, eyes darting between the unexpectedly free Gene to the flushed Tony to the still sparking, indented panel. He came to the only logical conclusion.

"Computer! Security breach!"

"Override!" Tony's voice shouted above his. Everyone held their breaths for a moment, then Tony gave a sigh of relief as the security systems remained inactive.

"Rhodey… it's not what it looks like. I finished adjusting the force field generator and gave Gene a little tour."

"At a quarter to four in the morning?"

Tony's eyes darted over to Gene and then back to his best friend. "He was awake."

"Uh-huh. And that?" Rhodey made an unnecessary gesture towards the incriminating panel, which obligingly sent off a new shower of blue sparks.

"Um… there was a bee… and I tried to smash it… with a wrench."

Rhodey stared at Tony in absolute disbelief for a moment. Just as he was about to call his best friend out on his very obvious lie, Gene cleared his throat.

"You shouldn't lie to your friend like that, Stark, even if you are embarrassed." Successfully capturing Rhodes' attention, Gene continued. "After giving me the tour, Stark was going on and on about some invention of his. He was gesturing wildly with the wrench, which slipped out of his hand and flew into the panel." Gene kicked a slim red, blue and silver can across the floor towards the steps. "I counted four of these while we were walking around. Suffice to say, I think he's had way too much Red Bull tonight."

"You counted my empties? And I thought Rhodey was bad."

"Hey, just because I told you to go to bed four hours ago… None of this had to be completed tonight. There's no reason you couldn't have gotten a good night's sleep and finished it in the morning. It's not like he's going anywhere… er, no offence, Gene."

"None taken. I agree with you. Sleep sounds like a good idea. Although I suppose I should thank Stark for his enthusiasm in giving me a little more space." Gene's brows furrowed down, his words coming slowly. "And for saving me from Zhang. I never did say thank you for that, did I?"

That was as close to an apology for tonight's actions as he could come. He took a surreptitious sideways glance at Tony. The boy's entire face was lit up with an overly large smile. Gene averted his eyes. Stark was just too open and honest for his own good. It would cause him nothing but pain down the road.

But not from Gene; no more tonight. He had done his best to drag Stark down to his level, to make the other teen get mad and fight back so he could free himself without guilt. While successful on one front, it had also backfired spectacularly. He wished Tony had left him to his nightmare. At least asleep, there was always a chance of things taking a turn for the batter. Now he was wide awake and still drowning in the warmth. And freedom still lay beyond his grasp.

He watched as Rhodes came down the steps, encouraging Tony to come to the house and go to bed. The thought occurred to him that now might be the perfect time to make a break for it. Rhodes had probably neglected to secure the upper door, seeing as he hadn't expected Gene to be out of the lab. It would be easy to shove one into the other and run; run as fast as he could into the night. Tony might come after him as Iron Man, but he might not. Gene couldn't predict the odds anymore.

His muscles stiffened and then relaxed. He bade his captor and his cohort goodnight, turned and went back into the med-lab, shutting the door behind him.

"Computer, lights off," he ordered, grateful when the machine obeyed his command. Shuffling his way through the dark, he threw himself on the bed, leaving his covers on the floor. Although the room was utterly dark, he put an arm over his eyes. Only then did he allow his suppressed horror to surface.

Stark had _seen_ him, seen through his ploy and even down to his true desire behind finding the rings.

Gene shivered, feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed. It wasn't supposed to work that way. _He_ was supposed to see through _Stark_, to find the boy's hidden motives and exploit them to his own ends. He had wanted Stark to hate him so much, to be so disgusted by his words and actions that the other teen would set him free just to be rid of him.

Instead, after his initial, impressive burst of anger, Tony had agreed with him, laughed at his own faults and then smiled, accepting Gene's thank you as if nothing had happened. The combination of restraint and destruction that Stark had displayed by smashing his own console had been so unexpected that Gene's only thought at the time had been to stop it. But it had been Tony's insightful statement right before Rhodes' entrance that had really shaken him up.

Gene raised his arm, stretching out his hand in the dark for the rings that were not there. Tony was right. It wasn't about the power the rings promised; it was about the freedom they guaranteed.

Sighing, Gene let his arm fall.

Just out of reach. Always just out of reach.

* * *

**A/N: **Had enough of the angst? The next couple of chapters will bring something new to the story. Promise.


	15. First shot fired

**Chapter Fifteen:**

"Are you seeing this?"

"I'm seeing it, but I'm not believing it."

"Think there's a gas leak?"

"I don't know; maybe they're under the control of A.I.M."

"It's got to be something; they're being civil."

"No, man, it's gone beyond civil. I'd say they're being down right nice."

"Creepy."

"Agreed."

Pepper Potts twisted suddenly in the lounge chair she occupied, sending a death glare towards the staircase where two sets of eyes, one strikingly blue, the other warm chocolate brown, peered around the open door's casing. "Hello? Rude much? We can _hear_ you, you know." Muffled laughter was her only response as the two teenaged boys retreated back down the stairs. Pepper harrumphed in disgust, rolled her eyes and turned back to her companion/ward.

"Tch, they're so juvenile, don't you think?"

Gene Khan, who had stoically ignored the exchange, glanced up from the math homework he was perusing. "I think the sun feels good," he commented with a faint smile. "And that you got numbers seven, ten and fifteen wrong."

"What? No way! Let me see."

Tony and Rhodey walked back down the stairs, satisfied that everything was going smoothly. Pepper had insisted on making the upper factory accessible to Gene and, after some debate, Tony had installed another force field generator in order to make her happy. There were stipulations, of course. Someone had to be up there with him and he had to come back down immediately if Roberta or one of their school friends showed up. Although no one outside the four of them and the Tong knew what was going on, they had to prevent anyone from seeing Gene, lest the Mandarin discover his location.

Today was the first day of the new system, and thus far everything seemed to be going well. Although, as Tony had commented before, seeing Gene and Pepper get along was somewhat creepy.

"She's really trying hard, isn't she?" he commented as they walked towards a worktable.

"She is," Rhodey agreed with a smile, pleased his friend had noticed Pepper's marked improvement in attitude the past few days. Then, to be fair he added, "Gene is too. I think I actually heard him swallow a sarcastic comment earlier. Pepper must have been right: a little more freedom and some sunlight was all he needed."

Tony kept his blue eyes locked on the table. Things had been so peaceful the past couple of days that he didn't want to rock the boat by disagreeing. But what they had done was the equivalent of putting a band-aid over a hemorrhaging wound. It would buy them a little time, especially since Gene was making an effort, but not much. Because Gene needed a lot more than a 'little' more freedom; he needed to be free. Free of the armory, free of Zhang, free of the whole stupid bloodline destiny and all that it entailed. And Tony had a plan to do exactly that.

He picked up a piece of circuitry that he had filched out of one of Whiplash's severed tentacles. "Think I should make her a jetpack?" he asked absently. "You know, sort of as a thank you?"

"Let me give you a minute to think about those two words together: Pepper and jetpack. What do _you _think, genius?"

Blue eyes met brown and both boys answered simultaneously. "No."

Tony smiled and turned back to his work. Rhodey eased into the comfortable Communications Center chair. "Are you sure you want to be monkeying with villain tech like that?"

"It can't be helped, Rhodey. I need an edge. I've already upped the heat shielding on the armor to help counter the Wisdom ring. But defense isn't going to be enough. If my repulsors can't cut through his force field, I need a weapon that can. If my calculations are correct, and let's face it, they always are, these circuits will enable me to narrow the repulsors' beam width, making them way more intense than they are now. Plus, I should be able to incorporate an electrical charge into the core of the beam. Think of it like a Taser on steroids. The Mandarin won't know what hit him."

"But won't that drain your power cells quickly? And shouldn't you be consulting with Gene on this? We don't even know that the Mandarin armor is made of metal. What if it's a polymer or something? Your super Taser thing won't work."

"Come on, Rhodey, a polymer armor from rings that are a thousand years old? And I don't want Gene to know anything about this. He's been doing so well; the last thing we need to do is to remind him about his evil, power-hungry step-father. Besides, I'm just taking precautions. So _stop_ worrying, _Mom_."

Tony was sure that Gene would have spotted the lie right away; Rhodey, however, just grumbled a little and started playing a game on his PSP. Smiling grimly, the teen inventor went back to work on modifying the circuit. He had a plan to free Gene, and he was keeping it a secret even from his best friend. Rhodey would only try to stop him if he knew.

Tony intended on taking the Mandarin on directly. He would defeat Zhang and take his rings. Then he would turn the man over to the FBI or maybe even SHIELD. Finally, he was going to destroy the Makluan rings, all of them. If he couldn't manage that, he'd sink them into the Mariana Trench, where no one would ever find them again. Without the rings, the Tong would have no reason to care about the Khan bloodline. And with Zhang out of the picture, Gene would finally be free to live a normal life, or at least a life compliant with his own wishes, rather than the dictates of a criminal organization.

When it was all over, Tony thought maybe he'd talk to Roberta, tell her most of the story, the parts that didn't include Iron Man or mystical rings anyways. Gene might need good legal representation and maybe even a new legal guardian too. But he was getting ahead of himself. First and foremost the Mandarin had to go down. _Hard._

He reached for a soldering gun just as the Iron Man alarm went off. Startled, Rhodey almost fell out of the Comm. Center chair. Regaining his balance quickly, he dropped the PSP in order to scan the monitors before him.

"Whoa. Police and fire emergency bands just lit up all across the board. Some sort of explosion on the roof of a hospital." Rhodey paused while he scanned the incoming messages. "Oh man… get a load of this."

He brought up an emergency newscast and put it up on the large center monitor where Tony could see. A well-groomed but frazzled looking reporter stood front and center before a large hospital. Smoke could be seen billowing up from the roof behind her. Fire trucks and police cruisers were surrounding the scene. Dark plumes of black smoke rose from the building as a combination of safety forces and medical personnel attempted to remove the patients.

"Ladies and gentlemen, just minutes ago the peace of this neighborhood was destroyed forever when a mysterious black armored being appeared in the air over Mercy General. Here is some amateur footage shot by a local passerby…" The video image cut to a grainier, shakier shot of the Mandarin. Then flame shot out from one of his gauntlets, igniting the roof of the building. The footage jerked and shook in a sickening way. When the image finally stabilized, the Mandarin was gone and the hospital was ablaze.

The reporter reappeared. "I'm told that we also have an aerial shot of the building." Again she disappeared from view as a helicopter camera took over. Still, her voice continued as the picture showed distinctive smoldering scorch marks on the flat tarmac. They clearly spelled out "Iron Man."

"Homeland Security has issued a statement that foreign terrorist groups are not suspected. Whoever the culprit, he or she certainly wanted to get Iron Man's attention. Which begs the question: how many times must New York pay the price for having a super-powered hero patrol its streets…?"

Tony hit a button, killing the video feed just as Pepper's perky voice came down the stairs. "What's going on?" Following her down the steps was the decidedly less perky Gene Khan.

Tony exchanged a long look with Rhodey, who shrugged his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Tony regarded his other two friends. "It's the Mandarin. He just attacked a hospital. He burned the words 'Iron Man' into the roof. I can only guess as to what he wants…"

All eyes in the room flitted to the expressionless Chinese teenager. "I was expecting something like this," he admitted with a sigh. "He took longer than I thought he would, actually. He's discovered that I'm not in any of the normal places a crime victim would be and so he's turned to the only person who would know where I am: the one who rescued me in the first place. The only thing I find odd is that a hospital is a pretty public thing to do; the Tong are usually more subtle than this."

"_Why_ a hospital? Does that mean he'll continue to attack public sites if I don't turn you over?"

Gene's right hand reached up for his chest, then froze mid-motion and fell. The comfort he sought was no longer there. He nodded slowly. "Hospitals, churches, schools… whatever it takes to get your attention. I think… I think he might be banking on your immediate compliance. Attracting this much attention would not be good for business."

"What would _you_ do?"

Gene's face twisted into an unhappy smile. "Turning me over would be the logical choice; you would have at least nine months to come up with a way to beat him and your 'innocent' people would be safe."

Pepper half turned on the staircase, planting one hand on her hip before declaring with certainty, "Tony won't do that. He'd never give you back to that monster. You shouldn't even think that way."

His face vacant of emotion, Gene shrugged one shoulder as if he couldn't care less about his fate. His slightly shaking hands undid the appearance of indifference.

"Pepper is right, Gene. I'm not going to give in to any of that mad man's threats or demands. I'm going to defeat him. You know him better than anyone here. Will you help me?"

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as Gene silently nodded.

* * *

A little over two hours later found Iron Man cruising the city, skimming gracefully between skyscrapers as the sun began its descent to the west. With Gene's help, he had picked out an area just inside the Tong's border with the Maggia. It was in a declining industrial district, far away from homes and families. Gene had talked him out of a direct attack on the Tong headquarters, pointing out that defeating the Mandarin would be difficult enough without fighting a legion of skilled ninjas too. Gene believed that being close to the border with the Maggia would prevent them from interfering. The Mandarin would not want to instigate a war with his foes and have to deal with Iron Man at the same time.

Tony's plan was to do a low, slow sweep over Chinatown, then head to the location he had chosen. The Tong would spot him and hopefully the Mandarin would rise to his challenge. Accomplishing phase one quickly, Tony landed in a large, empty parking lot. Scraggly weeds poked up through cracks in the asphalt; a rust-eaten, abandoned car decorated one of the corners.

Now came the hardest part of the plan: he waited. Tony ran a systems check on Iron Man while he stood there. He had managed to incorporate Whiplash's chips into his left hand's repulsor before leaving the armory; thus far the technology seemed to be compatible with his. Since he hadn't been able to run a full suite of tests, however, Tony had no idea the long term consequences of using his modified repulsor.

His power cells were fully charges, as was his heart. He had modified his shields to make them more resistant to heat and fire and both the armor and the armory were scanning for Makluan ring energy signatures. Being out in the open was perhaps strategically unsound, but at least he'd be able to see his foe coming. Gene had warned that there was a small chance that Zhang would just ignore him. _"He wants me; fighting you is not necessary to accomplish that goal. Depending on his mood, he might meet you to demand my location or he might ignore you and attack another public building to increase his bargaining position. Since he doesn't see Iron Man as a threat, he'll probably come…but I'm not a hundred percent sure."_

Tony resisted the urge to tap one foot impatiently. Usually he just showed up and pounded whatever bad guys were currently causing problems while they were in the _process _of criminal activity. The wait game just wasn't his thing.

"Tony," Rhodey's warning voice broke the silence.

"I see it."

The white glow of the Mandarin's teleportation sphere appeared in the center of the parking lot about twenty feet away from Iron Man.

"Tony, something is wrong. The Makluan ring energy signature is much higher than it was before."

Tony didn't have time to reply. The glow subsided enough to reveal the black dread knight within. Seeing the Mandarin again sparked the hatred that had been festering inside Tony since his rescue of Gene. How many panic attacks had Gene suffered through since awaking in the armory? How many times had Tony seen the suspicion and outright hurt in the other boy's eyes? What would happen to him if Zhang ever got his hands on him again?

No. Tony wasn't going to give him the chance. The time to free Gene from the curse of his birthright was _now_. Always before, Tony had feared his darker side; the part of him that wanted to _hurt_ the villains, the part that craved vengeance and retribution. Now as his rage burned within his veins, Tony simply let it go. There was no need to hold back, not with _this_ particular enemy.

As the glowing white sphere faded away, Tony did not wait for the Mandarin to start making demands. He did not use snappy hero banter. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he simply opened fire with both repulsors. Just as quickly as he had arrived, the Mandarin disappeared.

"Damn it," Tony swore.

"Stay on your toes, Tony. There is a butt-load of energy surrounding you."

Engaging his jet-boots, Iron Man rose a few feet into the air, spinning in a slow circle while scanning the expanse of the empty parking lot. A warning alarm sounded just before a blast of fire hit him directly from above. Tony hit the ground and rolled, then rocketed upwards with his jet boots maxed out. As the semi-translucent white shield began to expand outwards from its dark creator, Tony struck with his modified repulsor.

The blue light narrowed into a beam the width of a pencil. Sparks flew where the energies converged, temporarily overwhelming the exo-suit's sensors. Still he kept up the assault. The Mandarin's shield convulsed, ripples of energy undulating across the surface of the sphere. When Tony's vision cleared, he could see that his modified beam was winning the battle.

Lips curling in a fierce smile, he let his right repulsor join in the barrage, hoping the extra power would be enough to break through.

Slam! Like a swatted fly, Iron Man suddenly crashed to the ground, a field of crackling black energy surrounding him. Struggling to rise, Tony was beset by flashing red lights and warning alarms. "Alert: gravitational anomaly detected. Warning: armor shielding at seventy percent and falling."

"Stark, something is wrong," Gene's voice cut over the computerized one.

"You're telling me," Tony grunted as he strained against the increased gravitational pressure. Outside the field of black, he could see the Mandarin standing there, one glowing gauntlet outstretched.

"That _isn't _one of my abilities. He's found another ring. That means they have all gained exponentially in power."

"Warning: armor shielding at forty-two percent."

"Arg!" Unable to even push his chest off the asphalt, Iron Man fired both repulsors at the ground. The surface crumbled and he escaped the crushing gravity by falling into one of the many sewer tunnels that ran beneath New York. Unable to stand in the confined space, he hastily crawled away from his entrance hole as fast as he could, then created an exit.

Jet boots engaged, he rocketed up and out just as Zhang sent a fireball into the methane-rich environment. Explosions ripped the crumbling parking lot apart; pieces of asphalt flew through the air as the line of sewage detonated and then collapsed.

The Mandarin was shielded but distracted, hovering ten feet off the ground. Without hesitation, Tony steered his armor directly towards his foe, left hand extended and glowing. The pencil thin beam emerged; this time, backed with Iron Man's forward momentum, it pierced the shield, striking the Mandarin in the shoulder. Tony engaged the electrical system, delivering a powerful shock to the black armor. Zhang cried out and fell, striking the pavement hard.

Feeling a flash of triumph, Tony could hear the voices of his best friends shouting out in elation. In quiet contrast, Gene's softly spoken, "I can't believe it," filled Tony's heart with happiness.

It was short-lived.

A tentacle of blue grabbed Iron Man's ankle and flung him to the pavement. Refusing to release its grip, it widened, engulfing his legs and creeping up his chest plating. The Mandarin towered above him, three glowing rings adorning his right gauntlet. With a gesture, he used the blue fluid to hoist Iron Man off the ground. Tony struggled. But the exo-suit was completely encapsulated, all save his head. His servos whined in protest as his efforts to fight free gained him nothing. Then the fluid tightened, ending all movement.

"Warning: armor integrity at risk. User intervention required."

"I'm _trying_," Tony told his operating system.

"Where _is_ he? Where have you hidden the last Khan? Answer me or I'll crush you."

"Crush me and you'll never find out." Tony managed to sound defiant, despite his situation.

The Mandarin's grimacing helmet canted slightly to one side. "True. But there are other methods I can employ."

The blue fluid suddenly expanded, encompassing his head. Trapped in a sphere of liquid, Tony didn't need to look at his red-tinged HUD to know he was in trouble. He made the suit air-tight, a sense of claustrophobia rising.

"Tony, are you okay?" Rhodey's strained voice crackled in his ears.

"Oh sure. I'll be fine. Until the air runs out in about five minutes."

"Stark, give it up. You couldn't defeat one ring; three is impossible. It's okay. I am sorry you got involved. When he gives you the opportunity, tell him what he wants to know."

"I won't do that, Gene. He's not hurting you or anyone else ever again."

"You are a fool, Stark. I'm not worth this much effort. You tried. That is more than anyone has ever done for me since my mother died. Now let me go."

Tony closed his eyes. He could picture Gene standing there trying to be indifferent and brave, surrounded by but not quite a part of Team Iron Man. Alone, always standing slightly apart, always shying away from an outstretched hand. Gene didn't expect people to care about him; he expected to be let down and betrayed. The world to him was a dark and cruel place, a place without innocence and decency. But he was wrong. Tony _did_ care. He was sure that Rhodey and Pepper cared too. People, given a chance, were good.

Gene was wrong. He _was_ worth the effort. And proving that point was something worth fighting for. Iron Man wasn't going to pack up his bags and go home, third ring or not. For Gene's sake, Tony could not afford to lose this battle.

Defiance rose up in him, even as his scientific brain began functioning. He stared through the rippling surface of his liquid prison. The Mandarin hovered just outside. Was he close enough? He'd have to be.

Tony struggled, not to break free but to properly orient his feet. Zhang noticed and raised his hand, blue ring glowing, constricting the fluid around Iron Man. But he was too late.

Tony fired his jet boots, now pointed at Zhang, propelling the liquid back at the Mandarin. As soon as it connected, he used his Whiplash-repulsor, electrifying the substance. The Mandarin convulsed and fell; his control shattered. Unfortunately, Tony's armor, although double-faulted, shorted out as well. The shock ran through his systems and his body, giving his heart a good jolt. He could hear his friends, all three of them, yelling his name as everything went black.

_**TBC...**_

* * *

**A/N:** Due to Christmas, the next update won't happen on Saturday. It will probably occur sometime the last week of December. If not, it'll be after New Years. Happy Holidays, everyone! Thanks for reading!


	16. An unexpected ally

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Tony!"

Three voices rang out simultaneously, and then the chorus was reduced to two. Gene stood petrified, one hand grasping his shirt where his rings used to hide. But there was nothing there to hold on to; no way for him to help. Just a terrible, terrible tightness in his chest, as if the electricity had struck him as well. He forced himself to take shallow breaths, the shallow breaths he prayed Tony was taking.

"Rhodey!" Pepper was practically shaking the boy in the Comm. Center chair. "Is he… Is he…?"

"He's alive. The system protected his heart, just like it's supposed to, but now it needs to be rebooted. Propulsion, weapons, communications, everything but primary life support is shut down. I'll try to restart it remotely…" His fingers flew over his keyboard as Pepper continued with her death grip on the edge of his narrow chair.

'_Alive.' _Gene heard the word but it gave him little hope. With the Iron Man systems shut down, they had no way of seeing what was going on. Zhang was still there; he had three Makluan rings and it was _all_ Gene's fault.

"Gene? What did you say?" Pepper's hazel eyes ceased being fixated on the monitors, darting over the pale-faced youth standing slightly to the side. "Whoa. You don't look so good."

His heart pounding in his chest, one hand still clutching his shirt, Gene didn't feel well at all. He felt horrible. Stark was going to die in his place and for what? "My fault," the words gasped out, "It's my fault."

Torn between monitoring Rhodey's progress and the obviously distressed teen, Pepper bit her lower lip. Then, with a deep breath, she moved. She couldn't help Tony, but she could help Gene and that was kind of like helping Tony, because Gene helped Tony and Tony was trying to help Gene. Yeah, that made sense, she thought with a snort. Go Team Iron Man.

Pepper moved over to Gene, resisting the urge to touch him. Instead she stood directly in his line of sight, so he had to look at her, and did what she did best. She talked. "What's your fault? This? Nonsense, Tony gets in trouble like this, like _all_ the time. He'll get through it. He's Iron Man. He'll be fine."

Gene rocked back and forth on his feet; he looked small and frail before her. Pepper's eyes widened, but before she could say anything more, Rhodey's voice shouted in triumph. "Hey! I've got the communication system back up. Tony? Can you hear me? Tony!"

The lure of the monitors was too great. Pepper dashed back over, but not prior to giving Gene a bold grin. "See. I _told _you it would be fine."

Pepper and Rhodey's words buzzed around Gene's head like a pair of mosquitoes. He heard them but couldn't comprehend them.

"His systems are on but he's not responding."

"And the Mandarin?"

"Still down."

"Well, bring him home remotely."

"I can't; the propulsion system is still off-line."

Gene already knew how this was going to end. The Mandarin would crush Iron Man, find out who he was and come here. Rhodes and Potts would be next. They were all going to die, all because he had been foolish enough to try and reclaim his birthright. And there was no way to stop it. It was too late to escape the lab, to surrender himself to the Tong. Tony wasn't conscious to give the Mandarin the information that would save his life. There was nothing Gene could do, no way to prevent the inevitable. Or was there? A desperate idea started to form.

"Oh no."

"What? What?"

"The Mandarin; he's getting up."

They were distracted enough. All he needed was something sharp and a few minutes. It was the only way to stop the Mandarin and save Tony. His eyes darted around. Most of Stark's tools were useless for his cause, but there on the bench: a utility knife. Giving Tony's friends another furtive glance, he moved towards it, grasped it. The metal casing felt cold in his hand. It wasn't the rings, but it was something solid to hold on to. The blade looked nice and sharp.

"Tony! Tony! Wake up!"

"I'm locking down the armor. Hopefully that will buy us some time."

Trancelike, Gene turned his left arm over. He'd have to do it long ways, so that by the time they noticed it would be too late. His right hand shook so hard the blades contained within the handle of the knife rattled.

Tony groaned loudly. "Did anyone get the number of that bus?"

"Tony? Thank God! Get up! Move! The Mandarin is coming."

Another groan as Iron Man staggered to his feet.

Gene stared at the pale underside of his arm. To end the line of Khan would end the power of the Makluan rings; he knew this… but he couldn't do it. How long had he despised his mother for this very act; cursed her and called her a coward and he couldn't do it. Tony needed help; he needed saving and Gene couldn't do the one thing that would accomplish that task. He was far worse than a coward. He was less than nothing. He was horrible.

"_Are you worthy?" _a voice whispered in his mind.

"Gene. What are you doing?"

It was Pepper again, standing in front of him, her hazel eyes comically wide. He remained silent. The answer was obvious.

"Did you hear? Tony's awake. He'll be fine now. Why don't you give me that knife?" She chuckled nervously at the end.

Gene took a step back, swallowing hard; his fingers convulsing around the knife's handle. Pepper's expression firmed.

"Come on, Tony said that was just a myth. You can't really think that killing yourself will stop the Mandarin. And talk about selfish! How is Tony going to feel if you hurt yourself after all he's done for you? Don't you care?"

Gene couldn't speak past the hard lump in the back of his throat. If he could find his voice, he'd tell Potts that of _course_ he didn't care. Everyone he ever cared about was dead: his father, his mother… Junrei, with whom he had believed himself to be in love.

"_Are you worthy?"_

In the background he could hear the fight between the Mandarin and Iron Man continue. Pepper believed with all her heart that Tony would win; he could see her hope shining in her eyes. But Gene knew the opposite was true. Could he really stand here and do nothing while her hope was crushed by reality? Was he so callous that he'd simply bear witness to the grief of Tony Stark's friends, and later to their own torment and demise at the hands of his step-father? These were good people, the kind he had thought only to exist in fairy tales. He was the taint, the stain on existence, the one bringing darkness and pain into their world.

"_Are you worthy?"_

"No!" he shouted at the incessant whisper. "I thought I was because I was born a Khan, but I'm not. I'm nothing. I'm weak and small and pathetic. Don't make Tony suffer for my mistakes. _Please!_ I just want to help him."

Gene's hand began to prickle, like it had fallen asleep. Dropping the knife, he held up his right hand, staring at it in disbelief. The tingle of power, so familiar; he could _feel_ it like it was there. The burning intensified. A brilliant flash of light lit up the room, causing Pepper to squeak in surprise. _"Are you worthy?"_ the deep voice inquired once again. Gene stared at his hand. It was _there_.

-------------------

"Rhodey? Rhodey, did you see that?" Tony called out. "The Mandarin just… blinked."

"Huh?" James Rhodes was having a hard time concentrating on the monitors, what with Pepper and Gene having some sort of issue in the background. Gene had just finished shouting something about being weak and wanting to help Tony. Rhodey would have found the sentiment admirable if the shouting wasn't so distracting. "What do you mean, he blinked?"

"I mean one second he was the Mandarin and then he was Zhang and then he was the Mandarin again. I don't know; maybe I'm seeing things."

"Rhodey?" Pepper's awed voice demanded attention. "You have _got_ to see this."

Irritated beyond measure, Rhodey finally turned his head. "What?! You know, you two are really… _whoa!_ Is that…?" He took a double take at the monitors to be sure, and then switched back to the aberration in the lab. "How…?" he began, but before he could complete his question the anomaly disappeared. The sound of Tony groaning in pain drew his gaze back to the monitors.

"Ouch. This guy hits like a ton of bricks. Any suggestions? Hello? Rhodey? What's going on over there? Rhodey?"

"Um, don't hold your breath or anything, but I think you might be getting some help."

"What?" Tony didn't need Rhodey to answer him. As soon as he uttered the word, a white-edged teleportation sphere began to form. But not around the Mandarin, off to his left. It expanded and shattered in a flash of white light. And then there were two Chinese dread knights.

Iron Man picked himself up off the pavement, where Zhang's strike had landed him. His targeting system darted between the two Mandarins. Identical in size and form, the only difference became apparent when he zoomed in on their gauntlets. One Mandarin wore two Makluan rings: a green one and a blue; the other wore a single, glowing purple ring. The moment seemed frozen in time. The Mandarins glowered at each other with twin glowing, grimacing black masks.

"What just happened?" Tony whispered the question, almost afraid to break the eerie silence that had descended upon the battlefield. Pepper's enthusiastic voice answered him, the normalcy of it shattering the creepy feeling that had been crawling up his spine.

"OMG, Tony, you would _not_ believe it! One minute Gene's all panicky and acting crazy and talking to himself about wanting to help you and the next: poof, he's got a ring on his hand, which was good because I think he was thinking about killing himself, which would have been bad, not to mention messy. I mean, ew with the blood and the spray and…"

"Pepper! Use fewer words!"

"Um… Gene got ring… is Mandarin… came to help you… I think."

"Just one ring?"

"Uh-huh. He was having some sort of weird conversation with himself before it happened. He said that he wasn't worthy and a whole bunch of other stuff that a normal guy would never admit to and…"

"Thanks, Pepper," Tony interrupted, locking his targeting system on the Mandarin with two rings. Honor took a back seat to necessity; he blasted the distracted fiend with his normal repulsor, giving a whoop of triumph when no shield appeared.

The monster staggered mid-air, and then gave a roar of frustration. A huge ball of fire materialized above his head, rapidly expanding to the size of a small car. Tony cursed under his breath and engaged his jet-boots. They flared to life and propelled him ten feet into the air before shorting out. Iron Man plummeted, crashing awkwardly to the ground.

Shaking his head, Tony made to run for it but it was too late. The fireball was too huge to dodge. Throwing his arms up in hopes of protecting his more delicate face plate sensors, Tony almost missed the flash of white light signaling the arrival of the Mandarin. For a second, fear ran through him; he was unprepared for a physical assault.

Then the dread knight clenched his fist, single ring glowing brightly. Tony found himself on the interior of the powerful shield that had thwarted his attacks time and time again. The world glowed red as the fire struck the white-edged shield; the asphalt outside the sphere bubbled into tar.

"He's mine!" the Mandarin standing next to him growled. The deep voice remained the same, even though Tony knew that Gene occupied the armor.

"Foolish child," the Zhang-Mandarin mocked. "I do not know how you managed to steal my ring, but it will accomplish nothing but delaying the inevitable. You are not worthy."

"This proves otherwise, Zhang," Gene spat.

The hovering Mandarin merely chuckled in response. Before Tony could caution Gene not to rise to the bait, the teen was gone in a flash of light. His reentry point was predictable. As soon as the beginnings of the teleportation sphere began to form, Zhang placed his gauntlet, twin rings glowing, against the white energy. A deafening bang resounded throughout the warehouse district as Makluan energy collided directly with Makluan energy. A black-clad form streaked through the air in the opposite direction, crashing into an abandoned factory over one hundred yards away.

And then the Mandarin was there in front of Tony. His targeting system beeped, confirming that this was his enemy. Iron Man took an unconscious step backwards. Red-tinted warning messages kept popping up in his HUD; the electrical shock was still causing systems to spontaneously crash and his main operating system was having problems keeping up with the reboots.

Lacking the energy to power his chest repulsor and fearing the consequences of using his altered one, Tony pointed his only remaining weapon forward. Sadly, even without the purple ring, the Mandarin could fly while Iron Man was grounded. Tony's blast went wide as the black armor shot up and to the left. Green and blue glows encompassed his gauntlet; an impenetrable cloud of steam filled the air, blocking Tony's view of his surroundings.

Giving up on his attempt to shoot the Mandarin down, Tony remained still, figuring that if he couldn't see Zhang, then Zhang couldn't see him. Unfortunately, he underestimated the old man's cleverness. The dense cloud of mist suddenly froze around him, including the minute droplets that had settled into the gaps between his armor's many components. Tony had modified the Mark One against intense heat, not cold. Combine the freezing mist with the multiple system failures and Iron Man became helpless and immobile before this unique assault.

The mist cleared. Zhang landed triumphantly as Tony desperately attempted to reboot his propulsion system. The grimacing dread knight cocked a fist backwards. Tony braced himself for impact.

An I-beam flew in from the right, catching Zhang squarely in the side. He staggered, falling to his knees. Carrying a heavy steel beam like a bat, a dust encrusted Gene charged in from the left, obviously having teleported there. Zhang regained his footing just in time to dodge a strike mighty enough to crack the pavement.

For Tony it was a bit surreal to watch the twin Mandarins duel; it took Rhodey's voice to bring him back to reality. Working together, they managed to bring some of his systems back on-line, including the jet boots. Solving the problem of the frozen joints was a different matter. Tony rerouted some power through the surface of the armor, but the thawing process was slow. Worse, the fight between the three had started to attract outside attention. Tony could almost hear Pepper bouncing in place when she announced that the high-tech Rapid Response SWAT Team was coming.

The battle between the Mandarins raged on around him. Gene's makeshift weapon worked effectively against his step-father at first, until the tenacious old man managed to catch the beam with both hands. A spiral of red encompassed the metal beam, melting it past the point of usefulness. Gene dropped it, using his expanding shield to push his opponent away from him.

Gene had learned his lesson about trying to use his teleportation too close to Zhang; and his step-father quickly learned the folly of trying to penetrate the purple ring's shield of defense. Apparently frustrated with the draw, they began exchanging physical blows. While Tony was no expert in this area, he could tell that the cool-headed Zhang had an advantage. Perhaps it was merely because the older man had a second ring augmenting his power. Regardless, the single-ringed Mandarin seemed to be receiving more blows than dealing them out.

Finally thawed, Tony bided his time, remaining stock-still as he awaited his opportunity. There! The duel-ringed Mandarin was close; his back partially turned as he concentrated on Gene. Iron Man rocketed into the air. Zhang began a mid-air turn, but it was too late. Red collided full force with black; Iron Man tackled the monster and threw him to the ground. A follow up repulsor attack pushed the prone armor across the pavement, creating a deep asphalt furrow in his wake.

Gene appeared next to Iron Man. Side by side the unlikely duo hovered, tensely waiting to see if the Mandarin would get up or if he was down for the count.

Impatient to say the least, Gene waited only a few moments before muttering, "The rings. Without them he is powerless."

Alighting on the ground, he started walking towards his motionless step-father. Iron Man held out a hand, tempted to warn him to caution. He resisted the impulse, settling for providing Gene with aerial cover. Closer and closer to his target Gene came, his stride gaining confidence with each step. Tony could almost hear the teen's mental thoughts: the rings meant freedom from, and victory over, Zhang. He was happy for Gene, if not also a bit worried about what the boy would do after obtaining his goal.

_Focus, _Tony chided himself. _Focus._

In the background, Rhodey was making vocal Tony's internal concerns. "Um, are you _sure_ we want Gene to have those rings?"

Tony didn't answer. After everything that had transpired, he wanted to believe that they could still be friends, rings or no rings. A niggling fear tickled along his thoughts; as damaged as the Iron Man armor was, he'd be in serious trouble if Gene did decide to turn on him. Tony banished the thought to a distant corner of his mind.

And just in time. Warning alarms sounded a second before a hail of energized shuriken rained down upon the battlefield.

"Warning, armor integrity in danger," the computer announced as dozens of the razor sharp weapons made impact. On the ground, Gene was fairing better; his energy shield easily repelling the attack. At least until the ground crumbled beneath his feet, tendrils of blue penetrating his defenses and ensnaring his limbs. One was snaking its way along his right arm, moving towards his ring finger.

In the distance, high-speed helicopters approached; on the ground a wave of grey-clad ninjas ran towards their master and his soon to be subdued step-son. Tony could only think of one plan. Throwing caution to the wind, he directed a repulsor blast at Gene's shield. His friend in Mandarin armor turned his head just in time to see Iron Man rocketing full speed towards him.

"Drop your shield," the speeding hero ordered. To his partial surprise, Gene complied.

Tony rammed into him, his momentum enough to snap the Mandarin free from his blue restraints. Gene managed to resurrect the protective barrier just in time to ward off another wave of shuriken.

"The police are coming. We've got to get out of here!" For a moment Tony thought his words had fallen on deaf ears. Gene's glowing helmet remained fixated on his now standing counterpart.

"That is right, Gene Khan," Zhang sneered. "Run like the coward you are."

Tony grabbed Gene's arm, positive that he'd have to prevent his hot-headed friend from responding. But before Tony could further plead his case, his world became engulfed in white. His stomach lurched as swirling energy spiraled around him. He wanted to yell but his breath seemed frozen in his chest. The discombobulating experience ended as quickly as it began.

Caught completely off guard, Iron Man crashed to his hands and knees. Raising his spinning head, Tony immediately recognized his surroundings. They were back in the armory.


	17. Regarding the ring

**Chapter Seventeen:**

"I am not a coward."

The words were so low-toned and softly spoken that Tony wasn't sure he would have heard them if he hadn't been wearing Iron Man's sensory enhancing helmet. He looked up from his kneeling position. The Mandarin towered above him, clawed gauntlets clenched so hard his arms trembled with tension. Tony swallowed hard, slowly rising to his feet. Gene had teleported them into the armor's storage and launch chamber, off of the main lab, so they were alone for now.

Tentatively, he rested a scarlet hand against a stiff black shoulder. "Gene… we couldn't have won that. There were too many of them and with two rings…"

The Mandarin jerked away from him before he could finish. Iron Man's hand remained outstretched for a moment, then fell limply to his side. A silent tension filled the room. Tony had no idea what was going on in Gene's head, but he imagined that none of it was pretty. Worst case scenario would be for Gene to teleport back to the battlefield, leaving Iron Man behind. He would lose and be recaptured and fall back into Zhang's less than tender grasp. Tony shuddered at the thought.

"Gene…" he tried again.

"That was _awesome_!" Pepper came bounding into the room, Rhodey close behind. The red-headed spitfire came right up to the Mandarin, completely unafraid. "You saved Tony!" Thin, pale arms reached up to wrap around the Mandarin's waist in a quick, impromptu hug.

Startled, the huge dread knight took a clanking step backwards, reverting back to Gene Khan in a flash of light. The teenaged boy looked dumbstruck.

Rhodey grinned at him. "If you don't mind, I'll just settle for shaking your hand."

Tony pulled off his helmet. "Wait a minute. That huge armor all comes out of that tiny ring? Where does all the extra mass go? Even modern day nanotech isn't that efficient." Then he caught the near panicked look on Gene's face. "Hey, give him some room, guys."

Obligingly, Rhodey and Pepper took a few steps back; Gene's stiff posture relaxed minutely in response. Pepper's verbal bombardment, however, did not pause.

"How did you _do_ that? I mean one minute you were you and going a little crazy and the next you were big, dark and scary. And then you were gone, which I guess is the ring's power; _oh_, unless coming to _you_ is its power, in which case _why_ didn't you do that _sooner_?"

"Pepper!" Tony and Rhodey's voices echoed each other.

"What?" she answered crossly.

Tony moved a little closer to Gene, trying not to crowd him. He studied the purple Makluan ring for a second. "That's the ring you were wearing when you took my dad's ring from Stane, isn't it? What temple did it come from?"

Gene's eyes were also locked on the purple ring adorning his finger. "I don't know. According to the wall in the Temple of Wisdom, the first Mandarin, the man named Khan, hid the Makluan rings because his many children were not worthy. He locked away their true powers and devised tests to judge the merit of those who would claim them. But to my knowledge, this ring has always been active. It's been handed down from Khan to Khan for generations, until Zhang took it from my grandfather."

"And each Khan who inherits the ring becomes the Mandarin?"

Gene silently nodded, his dark brows furrowed down. "Before now there weren't any other active rings. When Howard Stark began asking Zhang questions; that is when he became interested in finding the others."

"Interesting. I thought I saw the Mandarin blink on the battlefield; you know, turn back into Zhang just for an instant. It must have been when you took the ring from him. Too bad it didn't turn him back permanently, but I guess any active ring will maintain the transformation."

"Not to interrupt the brain trust, but how _did _you get the ring off Zhang's finger? I mean, I take it that's never happened before?"

Gene's gaze flickered to Rhodey for a moment, then returned to his ring-bearing hand. He didn't have a problem with Rhodes per se, but it irked him to admit to ignorance, especially when it came to his own heritage. The truth was, he had no idea how he had summoned the ring to his finger. His focus at the time had been on Stark's imminent defeat, not on the rings at all. He cringed slightly at the memory of all those pathetic emotions he had been feeling. And then that voice had started whispering in his head…

Gene shifted his gaze back to Rhodes, his jaw tightening slightly. To his knowledge, the ring had never before materialized on someone's hand. If it were just him and Stark, Gene probably could have admitted to the shameful truth. But years of ingrained suspicion and doubt when it came to the motives of others were hard to overcome. So he put a touch of arrogance and confidence that he did not feel into his voice as he answered.

"I am the last Khan; the one true master of the Makluan rings. Why would it _not _come to me?"

Brown eyes narrowed at him; Rhodes was obviously not amused by his attitude. Gene molded his face into a smirk in response.

"Hey, why don't we move this into the main lab, guys?" Tony inserted with a slightly stressed smile. "I'll be right there as soon as I'm out of the armor."

That idea was fine with Gene, who was feeling a little claustrophobic anyways. As he moved to the main lab, Gene began to convince himself that what he had told Rhodes was true. He was the last Khan and the ring had been passed down in his family for generations. He could think of no better reason for the ring to acknowledge him as its master; all five of them should for that matter.

Since his mother's death he had clung to the belief that it was his destiny as the last Khan to find all five rings and reclaim the power that the first Mandarin had hidden away. Recent events had eroded his confidence in himself down to nil. The simple realization that it had been Tony and not him who had passed the test at the Temple of Wisdom had begun the process. Then Zhang had reared his ugly head and Gene had been brought to his all time low; only to be rescued by Stark, an insult added to injury.

Gene gazed at the purple ring adorning his finger. This, this changed _everything_. It meant that he was worthy. It meant that he did not need Tony Stark. But he _did _need to know how the summoning process actually worked, just in case he had to repeat the action. If he could summon the ring to his finger at anytime, from any distance, he would never be powerless again.

"So, um, Gene…" Pepper pulled even to him, ducking her head slightly to capture his gaze. "Can I try it on? The ring, I mean. Please? Tony never lets me try on his armor."

Gene took a deep breath, an outright rejection of the absurd idea on the tip of his tongue. Then his amethyst eyes narrowed as he gave it a bit more thought. Here was a relatively safe opportunity to try reclaiming the ring again. If he was correct; if the ring had come to him because it was his birthright, then taking it from Pepper would be easy.

Unless, of course, this was a trick. What if she took the ring and ran, disappearing behind one of Stark's damnable force fields? Maybe the three of them had plotted this utilizing Iron Man's comm. link with the base. His heart pounded strangely at the thought. He looked into Pepper's eyes and only saw the same fanatical, rabid look she developed every time she spoke of SHIELD and their purported jet packs.

Gene relaxed minutely. A certain degree of caution was prudent in the life of a crime syndicate leader; too much, however, became paranoia, a definite weakness. Gene was tired of being weak.

Hesitantly, he put the fingers of his left hand on the surface of the ring, pulling it off. He stared at it for a moment. If someone had told him yesterday that he would _willingly_ surrender one of the Makluan rings, he would have called them crazy. As it was, Gene was pretty sure it was his own sanity that was questionable.

Closing his eyes, he extended his left hand and the ring it contained towards Pepper. He felt the cool, smooth weight leave his palm. Opening his eyes, he almost laughed. Pepper's hazel orbs had grown comically wide in proportion to her face; her ear to ear grin was scrunching up the freckles on her cheeks. She gave a little squeal of excitement while turning a pirouette. Then Rhodey's firm hand came down on her wrist, halting the festivities.

"Whoa. What are you doing? That thing is _dangerous_. We shouldn't be messing with it."

"Relax, Rhodes." Gene felt oddly cross at the cessation of Pepper's little happy dance. "It's not like she'll be able to fire lasers from her hands or anything. Let her have a little fun."

"Yeah, Rhodey," Pepper jerked her arm free. "Just because you think you're Tony's mom doesn't make you mine." She stuck the ring on her finger in one firm movement. And nothing happened.

"Aw… come on. Is this the right finger? Is there a magic word? Do I rub it like Aladdin's lamp? What's the deal?"

While Pepper fussed and fretted, trying the ring out on each of her fingers, Rhodey gave an audible sigh of relief. Gene crossed his arms in front of his chest, assuming his habitual stance. Of all of 'Team Iron Man', he gave Pepper the best chance of being able to activate a ring by herself. Of course, he knew the secret; his mother had told him.

Each ring was a mass of potential energy and that energy grew exponentially when in the presence of other Makluan rings. But even the most powerful engine in the world was useless without a spark to get it started. It was up to the wearer of the ring to provide that initial spark, to purposefully send their own energy into the ring to trigger it. Generally unfamiliar with the concepts of chi manipulation, the likelihood of a westerner putting on a Makluan ring and transforming into the Mandarin was very slim.

But Gene had thought that Pepper, who leaked energy like a radioactive isotope, might be able to accidentally set it off. He was almost glad to see that he had been mistaken. It meant the active ring was useless to anyone but him. Still… he wanted to try to recreate the events that had led him to possess the ring in the first place, which meant the Mandarin had to be present.

Uncrossing his arms, he walked forward towards the now thoroughly aggravated teenaged girl. "Here," he said, laying his own hand on top of her ring-bearing one. He felt the energy gather in the pit of his stomach; he directed it up and out through his hand and into the ring.

The quiescent purple artifact flared to life. With a flash of white light, the Mandarin came into existence.

"Oh… wow! I'm _huge_! Wait, is that _my_ voice? But I sound like a creepy, washed out version of James Earl Jones. Gross. Huh, this thing is really light. I don't feel like I'm wearing anything at all. Is it really working? Am I like, super strong or something? Oooh, do you think I could lift this table?"

Hearing Pepper's dialogue being uttered in the Mandarin's baritone voice was disconcerting to say the least. Gene realized that he and Rhodes were wearing identical pained looks. Pepper threw the lab table across the room in her attempt to lift it. The Mandarin let out a low-toned girly giggle. Gene winced.

"All right," Rhodey said crossly. "You've had your fun. Now get it off of her before she destroys the place."

There was another crash as Pepper bounced her taller than normal head off of a low hanging metal pipe. "Hey, I didn't even feel that!" she exclaimed. "Oooh, money!" She bent over to pick something up off the floor, her clawed gauntlet emulating the noise of fingernails on a chalkboard as they scratched over the surface of the concrete. "No, it's only a washer. Hey, Gene, how do I make this thing fly? Or teleport? Or do that super expanding shield thing?"

"Why don't you just concentrate on walking?" he deadpanned.

Tony chose that moment to enter the room. He stared at the Mandarin, then at Rhodey and Gene.

"Hi, Tony!" the Mandarin's very male voice greeted cheerfully as the dread knight armor waved vigorously. The moving arm snagged some electrical wires and snapped them like vines. Sparks rained down, highlighting the armor's fierce grimace. "I'm okay! Sorry, Tony."

The shocked genius' eyes were round with horror. With his mouth slightly agape, he moved to join the other boys. "Gene…" he asked slowly. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't." Gene answered distractedly. His focus was on the ring. "I just wanted to see if I could do it again."

There was another loud crash as something large and metal hit the floor. "Oops. Sorry."

Tony shuddered. "Please hurry."

Gene didn't bother answering. He was too busy concentrating on the ring, _his_ ring, trying to imagine it back on _his _finger, where it belonged. He closed his eyes; recalling the sensation of power the ring emitted, the feel of it surging through his limbs, giving him enhanced strength and might. He opened his eyes. Nothing. A combination of frustration and fear ran through him.

"Gene?" Tony asked.

"I'm trying!" the teen snapped.

And he was. Staring at the Pepper-Mandarin, he attempted to mentally command the ring. _I am the last Khan; your one true master. Obey me! Return to me now! _

Gene let out a growl as the ring refused to budge. Pepper, meanwhile, was having much more success in her efforts to exploit the ring's powers. Halting her one person demolition derby, she was now levitating a few feet off the floor.

"Think, Gene. What were you doing differently before?" Rhodey asked quietly.

Before? Before Gene hadn't really even been thinking about the ring at all. He had been overwhelmed with both crushing guilt and concern over Tony's welfare. Inferior, weak emotions that he most certainly was _not_ going to admit to Rhodes. There must have been something else, some sort of trigger he could not recall, because there was no way the ring of Khan would have responded to the potpourri of unworthy sentimentality he had been experiencing.

Tony took a breath. "All right. I'm putting a stop to this before she ends up teleporting herself into a wall or something."

"That would not harm her," Gene muttered. "The shield appears first and clears the area of any physical impediments to the Mandarin's form. That is why it is safe to teleport long distances without concern."

"Good to know," Tony gave Gene a half smile and a soft clap on the shoulder. "But I don't really want any Mandarin-sized holes in my walls either."

Gene watched as Tony approached Pepper's hovering form. He felt empty and drained. As embarrassing as it would have been to admit that he didn't understand what had happened earlier, demonstrating his ignorance for all to see was a thousand times worse. He just did not understand why the ring refused to obey him.

A surge of extreme disappointment threatened to overpower him. After everything he had been through up to this point in his life: all the loss he had suffered, the daily humiliations and beatings at the hands of Zhang, the insults and injuries and the most recent attempt to replace him with another heir; when the ring had appeared on his finger Gene had felt vindicated. Finally, proof positive that his life had purpose and value. That he was truly worthy.

Now the familiar doubts moved back into the hole where his heart used to be. All of Zhang's snide, better-than-thou insults echoed in his head, a derisive chorus to which he had no defense.

As Gene struggled internally, Tony charmed the ring off of Pepper's finger. She returned to herself and handed the artifact over with a wide smile. Her excited babble about her experiences as the Mandarin filled the room, but failed to register in Gene's brain. He was the last Khan; how could he be such an utter and complete failure at _everything_?

The two teens approached. Pepper kept up her non-stop, one-sided conversation as Tony scrutinized the ring in his hand, as if he could discern its secrets with his eyes alone. As they neared, Gene's hand reached out unconsciously, palm up. Tony froze, his fingers mid-way through turning the ring. He stared at Gene's expectant hand.

Gene stared at it too. How pathetic. How sad. He had to _ask_ for his birthright back. He had to stretch out his hand like some sort of beggar and hope that Stark had mercy on him. He could hear Zhang's voice telling him that if he were the _true_ Mandarin, he would just take the ring and destroy those who stood in his way.

The outstretched hand shook a little. Pepper fell silent. Rhodey shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Gene's jaw began to clench. He could see Stark's answer. He read it in the other boy's eyes, in his body language. He knew Stark's decision before the boy's mouth started to twitch open. Gene jerked his hand back. Fine. He wasn't going to lower himself anymore than he already had. His failure to repeat whatever had happened with Zhang was humiliating enough.

"Keep it," he spat, taking Stark's decision making power away from him. "I don't want anything to do with it until it recognizes me as its true master. It's _useless_ to me as it is." Gene spun around and marched off. He kept his shoulders square and his head up. His clenched jaw sent an ache through his teeth and into his head. He welcomed the physical pain.

He was glad no one called after him. Screw them all. He didn't need anyone or anything. Gene was as he had always been: alone. He preferred it that way. He slammed the door to the medical lab as hard as he could after entering the room. Only then, after shutting the rest of the world out, did the sorrow he felt show itself on his face.

* * *

The three teens all visibly flinched as Gene slammed the door to the med lab closed. They spent a few silent seconds exchanging glances; eyes a little too wide, mouths pinched down, triplets in their immediate concern.

Pepper was the first to break rank. She touched Tony's shoulder gently to gain his attention, and then let her hand fall. "You know, he was really worried about you. I mean, we were _all_ worried, but Gene was beside himself. It was like he was tearing himself apart on the inside, blaming himself for whatever Zhang did to you. It was hard to watch."

"You think… I should give him the ring?"

Pepper's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. "No, _no_, definitely not. I think you should lock it away under whatever high-tech security gizmos you have. If Gene has the ring, he'll just go after Zhang… _without _you. And that would end badly."

Tony blinked in surprise and gave Pepper a small but genuine smile. He had very much concluded the same thing, but Gene had stormed off before he could think of a way of expressing himself in a manner that would not have offended the Chinese teen. He was glad he wasn't alone in his opinion, nor in his concern for Gene's welfare. But he was genuinely surprised that Pepper of all people would be thinking along the same lines as him.

"I though you didn't care what happened to Gene?" Tony teased gently.

Pepper frowned and put her hands on her hips. She looked put-out, but her checks sported the faintest hint of a blush. "I _don't_, not really. But if Zhang beats Gene, then he'll have three rings again and that means trouble for you. _What?_ Why are you two looking at me like that? Fine, fine, I'll admit it. Tony, you were right about Gene. About helping him, about keeping him here… everything. He was so worried about you, and anyone who becomes that distraught over the fate of someone else can't be all bad. There. I said it. Happy?"

Tony turned his partial grin to Rhodey. "Did you just hear Pepper admit I was right about something?"

"Do you want me to mark it on the calendar for you? Seriously though, as much as I hate to agree with her, she's probably right about Gene and that ring. From what I saw of the fight, Zhang is still way more powerful and he knows all the right buttons to push to get Gene riled up. Gene is messed up enough as it is without suffering yet another defeat at the hands of his evil step-father. Lock it away, man. Put it somewhere he'll never find it."

Tony sighed and nodded; shifting his gaze back down to the Makluan ring. He knew they were right; for that matter, he knew _he_ was right. At the moment it would be a very bad idea to give Gene back the ring. But…

But Tony couldn't help but feel awful about the whole thing. Doubts invaded his mind even as he stood there. Gene had saved him _and_ had brought him back to the armory at Tony's request, even though he had probably rather continued the fight. He had willingly handed over the ring, no doubt confident that one way or another, he would receive it back. Gene extended so little trust to so few people, that it felt downright evil to betray it, even if it was for the boy's own good.

'Extend trust if you want to receive it'; that was his dad's motto. And by keeping the ring from Gene, by taking away his choices, Tony was doing the opposite of extending trust. This was _not_ a good way of building a lasting friendship, nor of mending a broken person's faith in humanity.

"Tony?" Rhodey questioned.

"Uh, yeah. I'll go lock it away now."

His oldest friend grinned. "You just want to study it, don't you?"

Tony grinned back, but it was mostly a surprised expression that crossed his face. He _did_ want to study the ring, but his thoughts had been so preoccupied with Gene that he had forgotten about his own scientific curiosity completely. First Iron Man, and then school and now a tentative friendship with a former enemy; Tony couldn't remember another point in his life where science had taken a back seat to so many other things. Is this why his dad had wanted him to live a 'normal' life for a couple of years; to balance his love of pure science?

Tony didn't know; he wasn't even sure he liked the changes in himself. Life sure was simpler when it had been just him and his dad and inventing things. Then again, now he had Pepper's enthusiasm, Rhodey's support and encouragement, and even Gene's moments of insight and understanding. Was his life richer, poorer or merely different? Tony couldn't tell.

This was probably how Gene felt: torn between the past and present, between how he had expected his life to be and actual reality. Feeling another flash of empathy for his fellow sufferer of fate, Tony shook his head, clearing it of its reverie. For now he would lock up the ring; but he was going to keep his options open for later.

Tony began walking towards the storage section of the lab. Technically speaking, the ring was 'villain tech', and with a couple of modifications, he could easily secure that particular area from intrusion. Rhodey's phone rang. Tony paused mid-stride; it was Roberta's specified ring tone.

"Hi, mom. Hanging out with Tony and Pepper. Uh-huh. _NO!_ You're _kidding_ me! Really?"

Rhodey's voice rose with excitement with every response. Pepper and Tony exchanged mystified looks.

"Of course! We'll be right up!" Rhodey flipped his cell closed and turned to beam at his friends. "You'll never guess what."

_TBC…_


	18. Odd man out

**Chapter Eighteen:**

"You'll never guess what." And in classic fashion, Rhodey didn't pause long enough for his friends to hazard a guess. "It's my dad! He's coming home for a surprise visit. Isn't that great?"

Pepper immediately joined in the enthusiasm. "Really? That's great! When is he coming?"

"Now… I mean in an hour or two. He called from the plane. Tony, we've got to get up to the house and get ready. I can't believe he's coming home. I thought it would be a couple of more months. You can take care of the ring, right? I've got to go." His warm brown eyes sparkling with excitement, his face split by an ear to ear grin, Rhodey sprinted towards the exit, not even pausing long enough for Tony to reply.

"Wow," Pepper commented with a grin. "Not even History gets him _that_ excited."

"Yeah, it's been a long time since his dad has been home. They video conference every now and again, but since David is in the Navy, he doesn't always have access. I wonder how long he'll be home for?"

Pepper shrugged. "Better take care of the ring before Mr. Temperamental comes out of his room. I'll help!"

"Actually Pepper, I think it would be better if I did it myself. The fewer people who know how to access the ring, the better."

"What?" The red-head went from happy to cross in a flash. Her hazel eyes narrowed. "You… you don't trust me. After everything we've been through, you don't trust me. I swear Tony Stark, sometimes you're just a big, high-tech jerk!"

"Pepper, wait! I didn't mean it like that!"

For the second time in the day, a lab door slammed shut hard enough to make him flinch. Tony stared after her. Then he let out a long sigh. One by one his friends had left him. Now he was alone. Alone and facing the prospect of watching Rhodey and his dad be a happy father and son team for who knew how many days.

Tony's insides twisted; he put his hand on his chest and grimaced with pain. He loved Rhodey; he liked David; so why was it so hard to like them when they were together? Tony knew the answer of course. He was jealous. He was jealous and petty and pathetic. The Rhodes' were so good to him, Rhodey was his best friend and he _still _couldn't summon up anything but dread at the notion of watching them be one big happy family.

Tony was suddenly glad that Rhodey had rushed off and Pepper had left in a huff. This was the side of him that he didn't ever want them to see.

Gene… Tony couldn't help but think that Gene would have understood instantly. But he was probably one of the last people on Earth that the Asian boy wanted to see right now. Tony looked down at the purple Makluan ring clutched in his hand; Gene's ring, the ring of Khan. Lying dormant within it was the power to go anywhere in the world he desired. Temptation flooded through him. The ring had transformed Pepper, after all…

But, with another deep breath, Tony smothered it. The idea was unworthy and unfair. Unfair to Rhodey, unfair to Gene and unfair to his own father, who had raised him better than this. With a sigh, he gathered a few components and went into the storage room. He couldn't make it as secure as the Vault, but he _could _make it teenager proof. For now that would have to be good enough.

Tony didn't work quite as quickly as he could have. Part of it was the mounting sensation of dread he was experiencing, part was an optimistic hope that a super villain would attack, giving him a legitimate excuse not to go. Plus, Rhodey kept calling him every five to ten minutes, asking if he was done yet, which really wasn't conducive to accomplishing his task.

In the end though, the city remained quiet and Tony managed to secure the ring to his satisfaction and get up to the house in time to clean up and change clothes. By the time he emerged from his room, a small but nervous smile glued to his face, Capt. David Rhodes had come striding through the front door.

He looked just as Tony remembered him: tall, broad shoulders, crew cut hair and cutting a dapper figure in his dress uniform. Rhodey would have some filling out to do as he got older. A touch of grey coloring the hair above the ears made him look distinguished. His face had the tired expression people get when they've been traveling for too long, but it lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing his gathered family.

Rhodey got greeted with a hug and much enthusiastic back pounding; Roberta's greeting started off demurely, but ended in a kiss that made both teenagers uncomfortable. Tony hung back, not sure what to expect nor what was expected of him. He hadn't seen David Rhodes in the flesh since his father's funeral. The tall, handsome man sized him up before extending a hand. Tony smiled genuinely at that, it was a gesture familiar to him, and took it, only to be pulled into a brief, unwanted hug. His whole body stiffened before he could prevent it, not even Roberta crossed this line too often and Tony knew her much better than David.

He was released swiftly and found himself looking up into a face that was warm and kind. "Good to see you, Tony. Good to see you."

Tony blushed and muttered what he hoped was an appropriate response. Roberta summoned him and Rhodey away to help set the table; she gave Tony a gentle pat on the shoulder as he passed. He smiled at her and pretended he had no idea why she had done that, the dialogue from a hundred different cop shows playing in his head. _'Nothing to see here folks. Move along; move along.'_

Roberta had outdone herself in the couple hours of lead time she had been given. The seldom used formal dining room table was filled with a savory home cooked meal. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, creamed corn and rolls covered the surface of the extended oak table; a pie of some sort was covered off to the side.

Tony picked at his food. His face felt stiff from the smile he had plastered on, as if any sudden movements would shatter his mask and let his true emotions show. He eyed David surreptitiously from across the table. Although he was nothing like Howard Stark in either appearance or personality, it was clear that he doted on both Rhodey and his wife. The conversation never rested on him for any length of time; instead the Captain kept steering it towards his family. How was school and work, etc. etc? And of course, he kept trying to include Tony in the discourse.

How was school? Had he stopped skipping classes? No more disappearing to go clubbing? What was this he heard about them fixing up the old armory? Could he see?

"Aw, Dad, there's nothing much there," Rhodey interjected. "A couple of old chairs, a jukebox that Tony modified to play MP3s and karaoke, an old basketball hoop… it's just a place to hang out."

And David had laughed about them being too old to have a clubhouse. The conversation moved on and Tony had time to force down his rising resentment. He didn't _like_ being grilled by this man, this virtual stranger, especially not over things that had happened months ago. True, he had known the Rhodes family forever, but it was mostly his dad's lawyer Roberta and her son Rhodey with whom Tony had interacted. David was always gone, and when he was around, he had talked with Howard while the boys snuck off to Tony's lab.

He didn't even know what to call this man; growing up in the Stark International building, Tony had always referred to adults by their first names, but he had seen the flash of shock and disapproval the first time he had called Rhodey's mom 'Roberta' in front of her husband. Now, unsure of what to say, he kept his mouth firmly closed and his lips pulled up in a facial expression he hoped was pleasant. He caught Roberta looking at him and knew that she, at least, wasn't fooled in the slightest.

Guilt over his behavior gnawed at him. He felt childish and small. No wonder his dad hadn't left Stark International to him; he couldn't even handle interacting with a normal family _that he cared about_ for one lousy meal. But no matter how many times he mentally berated himself, the ugly, dark feelings remained. All he could do was try to hide it until this nightmare was over.

"So I hear New York City has a new hero," David commented with a grin. "Iron Man, right? Boy, things weren't this exciting when I was growing up. What do you boys think?"

Rhodey and Tony exchanged a long glance; then Tony shoved a spoonful of green beans into his mouth, forcing Rhodey to be the one to answer.

"Well… it's pretty neat, I guess. Um… Happy Hogan, this kid at school, thinks he's a robot. Some of the others think he is a government experiment. But, you know, no one knows much about him… or her… or it."

David smiled at his son before turning to Tony. The sixteen year old, finished chewing, gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's cool, I guess. I haven't been paying much attention, what with school and all."

Capt. Rhodes actually guffawed. "Can you believe these kids, Roberta? A genuine superhero is flying around and the best they can come up with is 'cool' and 'pretty neat'. Come on, Tony. You, at least, should be more excited. If Howard were around, he'd be all over that thing trying to figure it out."

The spoken name stabbed and twisted in Tony's gut. He couldn't do it. He could _not_ sit here and discuss the exo-suit with this man. It was _his _dad who was supposed to be sitting across the table from him, oohing and ahhing over his invention, not someone else. That was what Tony had built it for. And he'd never, _ever_ get a chance to share it with his father.

His throat constricted painfully. "Iron Man is nothing. My dad would have invented something ten times as cool."

Damn. His fake smile was gone and Tony could feel his eyes burn. No, no, no, no, no. He was _not_ going to ruin the Rhodes' reunion dinner by sitting here and crying. Swallowing hard, he glanced out from under his fringe of bangs at Roberta. "I'm full. May I please be excused?"

She gave him a warm, sympathetic smile. "Sure, Tony."

He beat a hasty retreat, but not before catching the puzzled and slightly hurt expression on Rhodey's face. Feeling about ten inches tall, Tony escaped to the bathroom, where a cool wash cloth helped to soothe his burning eyes. "Arg! I am such an idiot!" he growled, glaring at his puffy-eyed reflection in the mirror. A soft tapping at the door interrupted his introspective tongue lashing.

"Tony?" Roberta's soft voice called. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, um, er…" For a minute Tony actually considered jerking his pants down and sitting on the toilet, but that would only buy him a little more time. Instead he patted his face with the washcloth a few more times, hoping to hide his signs of distress. "Sure," he agreed, when it became obvious that his face wasn't improving. He unlocked the door and stepped back. Roberta stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

He tried smiling. "I just thought, you know, you guys could use some family time alone; without me gumming up the works."

Roberta gave him a knowing look. "Tony, I know David can be a little overwhelming when he first gets home; it's because he misses so much when he is away that he tries to catch up all at once. He didn't mean anything by it. And as far as we're all concerned; you _are _family."

Tony couldn't meet her warm brown eyes; he found himself studying the tops of his socks. "I… I know. It's just that… I miss him _so_ much."

"Of course you do, and you always will. But that doesn't mean you can't remember the good times you shared. That's what David was doing; remembering Howard fondly. It's the best legacy anyone can hope for: to be commemorated with happiness. That, and having a son any father would be proud of."

She laid her hand on Tony's shoulder. He remained still for a moment, and then succumbed to his need for a hug. "Thanks Roberta. Er… Mrs. Rhodes."

She laughed at his awkwardness. "Anytime. And you can still call me 'Roberta', Tony. Now why don't you join us for some pie?"

"No thanks. If it's okay, I really just want to be alone."

The elder woman sighed, but ruffled her hand through his hair, forcing him to raise his eyes to meet hers. "Tony… if you need to talk…"

"I know. I can come to you with anything."

"I don't mean me. I meant that maybe you would be more comfortable talking to a professional, someone who could help you with what you're going through."

Tony pulled a face; he couldn't imagine laying his secrets out for some stranger to scrutinize. "I'm fine, really," he stated hastily, backing away from her. "I'm just a little tired. It's been a long day. Really, that's all it is. I've got, um; I've got homework to do. I'll just go do that. Goodnight, Roberta."

She let him go, smiling at him sadly. "Goodnight, Tony. If you change your mind, you know you're welcome to join us."

He nodded and escaped past her, retreating to his room. Except it wasn't his, really. Everything that had once been his was gone: his father, Stark International, most of his inventions, his private laboratory, even his room in the penthouse. He closed the door and slid down against it. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he pulled them up against his chest, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

He was going to have to be careful or Roberta would make him go to counseling as she had threatened to do before. That's all he needed, some condescending adult telling him it was okay to feel this and okay to feel that; as if he needed permission. As if they could understand his guilt and pain.

He closed his eyes, easily summoning his dad's visage to his brain. The last day they had been together he had been so excited about showing off the exo-suit that he had ended up being a smarmy little jerk all day. When Howard had complimented him on the targeting system he had designed for the earthmovers, Tony had responded that it made Howard's last invention look like a grade school science project. When his dad had tried sharing his enthusiasm over the Makluan rings, Tony had sighed and rolled his eyes and called it boring.

When was the last time he had told his father that he loved him? Had Howard known?

Tony resisted the urge to smack his head against the door; that would only attract unwanted attention. His feelings of self-loathing rose. He was such an arrogant, selfish little jerk; it was no wonder Obadiah had banned him from Stark International, declaring that it was a business, not 'Tony's personal playground'. Did the other adults he had so regularly greeted on his way through the familiar white hallways feel the same way? Maybe, maybe this was his punishment for taking things for granted for so long.

He heard muted laughter through the door and renewed remorse struck at his heart. He couldn't even treat this family decently; this family that had taken him in and cared for him and put up with his moods. What was _wrong _with him? What sort of defective person couldn't manage to be happy for his best friend and for his guardian when the missing part of their lives came home for a brief visit? He wondered if Roberta ever secretly wished that it had been Howard instead of Tony who had survived the crash. He couldn't blame her if she did. Tony often wished that as well. Some genius, who couldn't even manage to save his only family.

Feeling thoroughly dejected, he reached up a hand and locked the door. Normally when he felt this down he'd isolate himself in the lab and lose himself to science. If he happened to be at school when the mood struck, he'd gravitate towards Gene, who knew the value of companionable silence. Suddenly, he missed the other teen fiercely. Gene would understand; he'd understand all of it. Loss, pain, he had endured it all. Was still enduring, even now. But Gene probably hated him for not handing over the ring.

This time, Tony did smack the back of his head against the door.

Stupid, he was so stupid. If only he had explained his reasons for not handing over the ring, or at least asked Gene what he intended to do with it. A true friend would have handed it over instantly, without hesitation. Now he had ruined the delicate strands of trust that had been forming between them. He had no doubt that Gene wouldn't want to see him at all.

Pepper was mad at him too, and Rhodey was obviously out of the question; he really had no where to turn to… well, that wasn't completely accurate. Tony still had one companion that had never let him down. He hadn't needed it for a while; between Iron Man, the search for the Makluan rings, the almost constant companionship of his good friends and school, Tony's life had been pretty fulfilling as of late. The last time he had touched this particular balm was the night after he had witnessed his dad's holographic will. But it was still there, still hidden in the empty hard drive of a partially disassembled computer that lay on one of his bedroom's many shelves.

He just needed a little, just enough to take the edge off his jagged emotions so he could relax and sleep without nightmares. Just one glass should do it. He had to be careful. Rhodey and Roberta could never know.

Roberta had laid the law down after his earlier clubbing incidents. Tony knew she didn't get it; this was one of the many things that he had shared with his father. Stark International was just that: a company that did business around the globe. Since his mother's early passing, Tony had accompanied his father on almost all his business trips, including places where minors habitually drank a glass of wine with dinner. Just one glass, never enough to get buzzed. Later on in life, his dad had begun having a celebratory beer with him after an invention went particularly well. Just one, no big deal. Alcohol had been a part of that illusory equality that Howard had so often exuded in his interactions with his son.

His dad had always treated him more like an adult than a kid; which was one of the reasons his last will and testament had been such a shock to Tony. Maybe it was because Tony was so gifted at inventing things; maybe it was because Howard had been unprepared to raise a child and so had pretended that his son was older than his years. Whatever the reason, the will had shattered the illusion of equality his father had perpetuated. The truth hurt; his father may have _treated _him like an equal, but had privately considered him a kid.

Another emotion rose up, darker and uglier than all the rest. He smothered it down with an effort; this was one part of himself that he refused to acknowledge. To admit that it existed would be to admit that he was twisted and evil. After all, it was his fault that Howard was no longer here to defend himself. His eyes fixated on his hiding place.

Tony could no longer drink beer; he had discovered that during his club hopping outings. It was too painful and there was nothing to celebrate anymore. Plus, beer left an odor that was hard to hide from Roberta's discerning nose. The lawyer didn't agree with minors consuming alcohol; no matter if Howard had allowed it, she certainly would not. Rhodey agreed with her. And so Tony found something easier to hide.

Rising, the teen made his way to his hiding place, rearranging things until he could pull out the half-full bottle of vodka. It wasn't a problem; it never had been and it never would be. It was just another tool for dealing with the mess his life had become. And right now, it was the only friend he had left.

_Pathetic,_ his mind scolded him as he downed his first swig. He agreed with it… and he didn't care.

* * *

**A/N: **Originally ths chapter gave Rhodey's dad a name that was not accurate. Special thanks to 'The Best Damn Thing' and 'Soap Lady' for informing me of his true name. The chapter has been corrected to reflect that information.

Siany has made a cute depiction of a Pepper-Mandarin scene from the last chapter. Check out her Deviant Art page by accessing her Author Profile page and clicking on 'homepage'. Thanks again, Siany, for making my day with your art.

For all of you who have been following along with this story, my thanks. And yes, Gene will be back next chapter. Unfortunately, while I usually post one chapter a week, the next one is a little longer than usual and therefore won't make it up until Tuesday or Wednesday at the earliest. Sorry for the delay.


	19. Worthy

**Chapter Nineteen:**

Somebody… was … _touching_… him!

Gene's body curled tighter into the fetal position in which he slept, a whimper escaping his throat as reality intruded on his sleep. A huge weight compressed his chest, the instinctive terror manifesting itself instantly.

He couldn't think.

He couldn't breathe.

The air in his lungs squeaked out in desperate little gasps as his eyes flew open. They saw nothing in the dark room. Then the past began to superimpose itself over the present, confusing his panic-stricken brain even more. Where was he? Who was touching him? Could he move? Was he strapped down again? No! Shunko had found him. She was going to… She was going to…

The hand that had been gently shaking his upper arm removed itself, but it was far too late to assuage the damage.

"Gene? Gene! Are you awake? Don't panic; it's just me. It's _Tony._"

Gene heard the words as if spoken down a long tunnel; his abject terror made them impossible to comprehend. A tiny part of his mind knew where he was, knew what was happening, but the rest of him was too trapped by dread to listen to it. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a caged beast. Looking around, all he could see was the Tong's medical center, with Dr. Shunko and Zhang smirking at him… Naked and vulnerable, shame and fear overwhelmed him. Shunko's white lab coat slid off of her shoulders; his eyes tracked it as it fell; he was blind to anything else.

"Gene, you've got to calm down and breathe. Breathe Gene, or you're going to pass out."

That voice… Gene knew that voice; it was a safe sound. Lower in pitch than Dr. Shunko's dulcet tones, it threaded its way into his consciousness, clashing with her explanation of what was going to happen to him.

"_You can continue to struggle and resist if you like, but why bother? The end results will be the same: new heir of Khan, no more Gene…"_

"I'm so sorry, Gene. I should have known better than to wake you up in the middle of the night."

"_You know who is to blame for this, no? You need only to look into a mirror…"_

"I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry…"

"_I think I'd prefer to crush your resistance personally. You're sixteen; this won't last long. And then you'll spend the next nine months knowing what a complete and utter failure you are…"_

"I'll just go. Maybe that'll make it better."

The gist of Tony's words seeped through Gene's terrified brain. But if Tony left, he'd be all alone with Shunko! Desperately he reached out, blindly grasping for the other teen. His hand struck another hand and grabbed it tightly. "Don't go," he wheezed breathlessly, still hyperventilating too hard to communicate effectively. To his relief, the hand he had so fearfully snagged didn't pull away. Instead it squeezed his gently.

"Okay. It's okay, Gene. Just… try to calm down. Try and slow your breathing down. You're safe here; I promise. I'm just stupid, that's all. Stupid and selfish."

Gene neither comprehended nor cared what the other teen was going on about; just so long as he remained. If Gene could focus on Tony, his panic attack couldn't completely claim him. He attempted to slow his breathing down; tried hard not to think of the doctor and her long hair and her small, warm hands and her skillful mouth…

Gene shuddered, his body convulsing with horror and revulsion. He fought against the vision; against the overwhelming fear.

She was touching him. He didn't want to be touched.

No, no, she wasn't here. He wasn't there. It wasn't happening again.

Slowly, very slowly, he began to win the battle. The image of his step-father, standing and watching with his cruel snake-like eyes, began to fade away. The Tong's underground medical facility morphed around the edges back into Tony's high-tech med-lab. Gene blinked rapidly, hoping to clear the nightmare vision from his eyes. Then a weight came to rest against the edge of his bed, nearly destroying the small amount of progress he had made. His fingers crushed the hand he held; he heard a gasp of pain.

Scrambling to a sitting position, Gene moved as far as he could get from the unexpected weight. But he still held onto the hand. The hand was his life-line to the here and now; it prevented the past from sucking him back down and claiming him entirely. He forced his mind to focus on it. Broad and square in form, this hand sported calluses on the palm and fingers. The skin felt slightly rough. It was nothing like Shunko's hand.

Gradually, she began to vanish too, leaving him in Stark's darkened medical lab. Bit by bit, Gene came back into himself. He was sitting upright on the hospital bed near the top; Tony Stark was perched on the very edge, near the middle. Dr. Shunko, Zhang and the Tong's medical facility were nowhere to be found. He was safe. He was safe.

It took his body longer than his brain to catch up with the realization. His slight frame shook uncontrollably, the rush of fear and adrenaline simply had nowhere else to go. His heart rate and breathing were still incredibly fast. Taking a deep breath, Gene held it for a count of five before slowly exhaling. Then he repeated the exercise, until his heart rate decreased and the crushing weight that had been pinching his chest eased.

The relief of his physical symptoms cleared the way for the flood of shame and mortification that usually followed one of his 'episodes'. Damn. Damn it all, it had happened again. Nothing made Gene feel more powerless than the realization that he could not control himself; that the slightest thing, like being woken up unexpectedly, sent him into a state of mindless terror that took forever to overcome. No wonder the purple ring refused to respond to his calls; he wouldn't want to associate with him either.

His body gave a final tremble, then stilled. Exhausted from the ordeal, Gene rubbed his eyes with his left hand. He became suddenly, distinctly aware of the fact that his right hand was still grasping Stark's left. Disgusted with his pathetic behavior, he loosened his grip, only to discover that Tony's fingers were tightened around his own. It would take a good, hard jerk to extradite his hand, an action Gene gave full consideration before discarding for being both rude and cruel.

A trickle of curiosity began to displace the emotional cocktail swirling around inside of him. Frowning, he squinted across the darkened room at a digital clock. One forty-eight in the morning and Tony Stark was holding his hand. Was this an extension of the compassion that he was always going on about? It was weird to say the least, especially considering that they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms last night. Somehow Gene didn't think a Red Bull fueled inventing spree was behind this.

He waited, watching as the digital clock ticked off a full ten minutes. And although Tony's fingers relaxed a little, the teen showed no sign of letting go. Inquisitiveness warred with irritation at the situation. Finally, Gene took a deep breath and asked, "What's wrong?"

The teenage inventor stiffened and then laughed harshly. "What? Nothing is wrong. Everything is _wonderful_. He's really nice. Rhodey and Roberta are very happy. That's good, right? Do you know he wants to take me and Rhodey out to a ballgame tomorrow? It's a father and son plus one trip. Doesn't that sound like fun? What kind of guy would have a problem with that?"

Gene blinked in surprise, turning his head to regard his visitor. But Stark's face was turned away from him. It was more than a little disconcerting, hearing Tony's normally congenial voice laden with self-deprecating sarcasm. Plus he had no idea what the boy was talking about. Fortunately Gene, while not a genius like some people in the room, was still pretty quick on the uptake.

"Rhodes' father is home? I thought he was in the Army or something."

"Navy. And he came home as a surprise. Everybody is _so_ happy. A whole week of … of…"

Tony unexpectedly released his hand; Gene waited a second, then pulled it back to safety. The brown-haired youth hopped off the edge of the bed and began pacing the room. Back and forth, back and forth, his features shrouded in darkness. Still, Gene could see his hands tightening into fists, the stiff way he held his body and the almost angry way he placed each step.

"I don't even _like_ basketball. And he keeps bringing up my dad. 'Howard would be all over Iron Man', he said. But he wouldn't because if my dad was alive then he'd already know; he'd already have done something better. The exo-suit was just a bratty kid's way of showing off. I never should have built it. I should have died with him."

"And what would that solve?" Gene asked quietly. "Like you said, death is not an answer."

"I… I don't know. I just don't know. I mean, how could he leave the company to _Stane_? I thought he loved me, but in the end he didn't trust me at all. He wants me to live a 'normal' life, but he didn't raise me that way. Everything I thought I knew ended up being a lie and it's my dad's legacy that's getting trashed. How am I supposed to fix all the damage Stane has done? I keep trying. With Iron Man I keep trying to make things right, but nothing gets better."

Tony's pacing increased in speed, then came to an abrupt halt. "Sometimes… sometimes I hate him," he whispered, so softly that even in the near silent room Gene had to strain to hear him. In the hushed words, he could make out Tony's anguish. It resonated within him. Empathy and sympathy were not a huge part of Gene's emotional repertoire, but in this case… In this case he knew _exactly_ what Tony was talking about.

For a second, Gene felt like there was a third person in the room; he had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him. Twisting sharply about, he scanned the area, but he saw nothing. Dismissing the sensation as remnant paranoia from his panic attack, the teen refocused on Tony.

"Your dad, you mean."

The youth nodded slowly, the darkness hiding the emotions on his face. "You've seen the diary; how he thought, what he invented even when he was distracted… He was a genius. So how? How come he didn't know? Stane… the explosion on the plane… how come he didn't see it coming? How could he…?"

Tony's voice choked off, strangled by a muffled sob. Gene cringed at the sound of the other's distress, glad that the room was dark and he didn't have to see Stark's face. It was so odd; Tony usually kept his sorrow and anger buried deep inside. Gene was sure Potts and Rhodes only rarely suspected it existed, the teen inventor hid it so well.

What could have broken down Tony's barriers to this extent? More importantly: how could he help fix it? Because despite everything that had transpired with the ring, Gene wanted to fix it, wanted to help assuage Stark's pain and guilt. He just didn't know how.

Emotions like the ones Tony was emitting were dangerous things, easily exploited. Gene had learned early on in life not to share his weaknesses and doubts with anyone. That was the avenue Junrei had used to manipulate him so long ago. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what his mom had done whenever he was scared or sad. He had a sudden urge to go over and draw Tony into a hug, to tell him that everything would be all right.

The impulse was brief; Gene just couldn't bring himself to do it. So he did the only other thing he could think of, something only slightly less abhorrent to him. It went against all of his instincts, but for Tony… for Tony he could at least try. Gene took a deep breath and did the unthinkable. He shared.

"You're angry because he left you behind. You feel guilt because you know how much he loved you and now that he's dead, you shouldn't be mad at him. But you can't help it. I know. I felt… feel the same way about my mother. She died to save me, to protect me; what greater love could there be? But she left me alone. She left me in the care of that monster. I was nine and had no protection against him and his tactics. She was an adult; she should have found another way.

Do you know how many times I've heard Zhang call her a coward? The sad part is that I sometimes agree with him. Sometimes… sometimes I think she did it more for herself than for me. She ran away from the Tong when she was sixteen and never stopped running. And when they finally found her, found _us_… she ran down the one path Zhang would never be able to follow. And she left me behind to fight in her stead. I love my mother… but I hate her too.

I understand you, Tony. I really do. I wish I could say it gets better… The pain, the abandonment, the betrayal, the self-hatred and disgust… they don't go away. But you will learn how to deal with them better. You'll be fine; you at least have a couple of real friends to help you. I know I'm not one to talk but, you could probably stand to share some of this with Potts and Rhodes every now and again. They won't betray you; they are not the Tong."

Gene cringed slightly. There was a pressure, a tension in his chest that hadn't been there before. He was waiting, he realized; waiting for the first bit of cruel laughter, the first sign that his whispered confession had triggered not comfort in the other teen, but disgust.

For a second he dearly wished he could take back his careless, revealing words. Suck them back in and lock them up where no one would ever suspect they existed. But temporal control, like so many things in his life, remained out of his grasp.

The fact that he had willing shared his inner thoughts at all scared him. Was it the power of a dark room that loosened his inhibitions; or was it Tony Stark, the boy who had saved him, the one who kept stretching out a hand no matter how many times Gene rejected it? Just how many barriers had Stark broken through? Why were they falling at all? Didn't Gene know better; hadn't his experiences with Junrei taught him that just because a person told him the things his heart wanted… _needed_ to hear, didn't mean they were true?

Shame engulfed him, he was suffocating in it. He could handle being whipped and beaten, mocked and taunted, but show him a little kindness and he fell apart at the seams.

Weak. Utterly and horribly weak. This was why the ring rejected him; this was why he'd never truly defeat Zhang.

"_You are wrong, Khan Tamugin," _a voice whispered through his consciousness just as Tony spoke, "Gene? Are you okay?"

"Wh… what?" Once again twisting about so he could scan the room, Gene slowly focused back on the only other physical presence he could detect: Tony Stark, standing far closer than Gene remembered him being.

"I said, are you okay? You got real quiet and you seem kind of jumpy and tense. This is my fault, isn't it? Because I woke you up?"

Gene blinked owlishly about the dark room. He could swear that he was being watched, but he couldn't _see_ anyone other than Stark. He answered distractedly. "This is your fault because you are killing me."

Tony hovered closer than ever; Gene could make out the way his brows were pulled down in a thoughtful frown, the slight, hopeful smile on his face.

"You keep saying that… but I'm afraid I don't understand. Is it really so bad to have someone you can talk to? Someone you can trust? When you're around, I feel better. You know, not so alone. Because I know you get it. You understand what it's like. But you keep saying that I'm killing you. Does it really hurt so bad to have a friend?"

Beyond the honest confusion, Gene could hear the undertone of pain in Tony's voice. Apparently, despite all outward appearances, Tony wasn't completely immune to Gene's consistent rebuffs. That was wrong; he didn't want Stark to feel bad. But he didn't know how to explain it. He remembered his dream, the one where he kept trying to reach the rings, but was trapped by warm water and Tony's voice kept telling him to stay…

He put his hand against his chest and rubbed, flinching at the now familiar pang of pain. A wave of exhaustion swept over him. He spoke dully, knowing full well that the youth standing before him had little chance of comprehending.

"It's like… it's like I'm drowning in warm water. It feels good and safe, but it hurts too. And I'll end up just as dead. You keep asking me for something I can't give. I can't trust you; I _can't._ You'll betray me eventually, you might not mean to… but you will. Everyone does: my mom, Junrei, Zhang, the Tong, the ring… In this world, compassion and kindness are weaknesses. And I can't afford to be weak. If I am ever to reclaim the rings and claim my birthright, then I must be strong. Don't you get it? I was just using you, Stark. I don't know _how_ to be a real friend. I'm not even sure I want to… And it hurts. And I'm sorry."

It was true. Gene Khan had never made other people's feelings a consideration before, but with Tony, and to a lesser extent Pepper and Rhodey, he felt a strong compulsion to do so. It went against his instincts; it was weird and unsettling to him, but there it was.

"Let's see: you smuggled me out of the Tong cell, even though doing so endangered both you and those loyal to you; you haven't physically hurt me, Rhodey or Pepper, even though you've had both opportunity and motive; you made peace with Pepper; not only found a way to get a ring off of Zhang, but you came to help me as soon as you did…"

"I came to fight Zhang, not help you."

"Which is why you teleported us both to safety as soon as I suggested it? Uh-huh. Just shut up and let me finish." A wide smile, large enough to be seen even in the dark, softened Tony's words. "And now, even though it makes you feel like a part of you is dying, you're trying hard to comfort me about my situation and my attitude towards my dad. I know you have a hard time seeing it, Gene, but you _are_ a good friend; one of my best."

"Don't _say_ that. You shouldn't trust me either. Have you forgotten that I used you?"

"No, but I also remember that you saved Rhodey in the Temple of Wisdom. I bet you became the Mandarin to do that, right? So you endangered your secret in order to help someone."

Gene cleared his throat and looked away. "I, um, knocked Rhodes out first."

Tony laughed a little. "Really? Ouch… maybe we should keep that between us. But seriously… I'm glad we met. I'm glad you're here now… and I'm glad that we're friends. And don't say that we're not."

Tony sat back down on the bed, causing Gene to stiffen minutely. Then with a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. He rubbed his forehead gently with a couple of fingers, wondering what to do, how to fix this mess. Since tonight seemed to be a night for confessions, he settled for blunt honesty.

"Stark, I still intend to gather all five Makluan rings. I will be the Mandarin and rule the Tong. That is my destiny."

Tony sighed. "And what will you do with them?"

"What?"

"The rings, what will you do with them? Have you even thought about it? I've been thinking about it all night. I've decided not to be overly concerned. You need to take your life back from Zhang; I get it, I need to take my dad's company back from Obadiah Stane. But once you do, I'm not real worried that you'll become some sort of degenerate megalomaniac. One, you're too smart to want to rule the world and deal with all the headaches that entails; two, you have too much compassion."

Gene couldn't help it; he snorted, and then snickered. "Compassion is _your_ weakness, not mine."

"Compassion is a strength, not a weakness, and you _do_ have it Gene, just like your mother."

"Do not speak of her as if you know anything about her."

"I know she was brave. She left her whole life behind and ran away from a dangerous criminal organization, just to be free. That takes real courage. And she has to be the one who taught you kindness, because there's no way it came from Zhang. She died when you were little, right? But her legacy still lives on in you… despite everything you've endured, you still have a good heart. That's what I admire about you, Gene. You have every excuse to be depraved and evil, but you're not. My dad hasn't even been gone a year, but sometimes I think he'd be ashamed to see what I've become. I know tonight he would have had good reason for it."

The room fell silent. The hand that Gene had been using to gently rub his forehead settled over his eyes. He wished he had his shades on, although the room was too dark to see properly anyways.

His mom: brave? No one had ever suggested that to him before, ever. His heart ached, but it was a different kind of pain this time. His mind kept replaying Tony's words over and over. He could not hear them enough. Like a healing balm, they infused warmth into the battered parts of Gene's psyche. Memories of his mom flooded over him; his mom brave and strong who fled her own father and his hateful arranged marriage. Who snuck out of China and fled to the States at the age of sixteen, with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back and a fake I.D. He remembered her kind smile, how she pulled him behind her whenever she felt threatened, her love of sunflowers and purple dresses.

Precious memories. Dangerous memories.

Zhang's constant derogatory remarks and Gene's own resentment had tainted them, dirtied them to the point that he rarely thought of her at all. But Tony's words, the words of an outsider, an indifferent stranger who had no reason to lie, soothed over the rough, painful edges. His mom was brave. It was okay to think it, to acknowledge it in his heart. It was okay.

A sensation of relief flooded through him, accompanied by a host of alien emotions he couldn't quite comprehend. He was drowning in warmth and acceptance and this time he was too tired to struggle against it. Tomorrow perhaps things would return to normal, but for the here and now, Gene just let it be.

A tentative touch alit upon his shoulder; Stark's hand was patting his back awkwardly. Gene allowed it. He trusted Tony not to hurt him; what a foreign concept. Was this the power of compassion? If so, it had accomplished what years of Zhang's cruelty had not: it had stripped him bare and made him vulnerable. And Gene couldn't find the strength to reject it anymore.

How much time passed, Gene didn't know. He laughed quietly in the dark; a tired, ironic sound. Tony's comforting hand fell away.

Gene's body straightened from its slumped position, stiffened, a physical representation of his internal fortification. This was wrong. Tony had come down here in the middle of the night because he was distressed and needed someone to understand him. Somehow it had gotten all twisted around until Tony was helping Gene instead of the other way around. Rhodes' father had come home; of course Tony would resent it, feel like the odd man out.

The question was: what could Gene do to help? Because Gene _wanted_ to help, almost desperately needed to do so. He felt curiously protective of the other teen. He recognized this feeling; he had experienced it strongly yesterday when Iron Man had been fighting Zhang and to smaller extents at other times, usually when the naïve teen was doing something that Gene found foolish.

Gene's sharp mind caught on to that thought, turned it over and over in his head and examined it. Yesterday… yesterday when he had been beside himself with worry over Stark, _that_ was when the ring had come to him. He had dismissed the whole episode; locked all the details away because he found them embarrassing, yet another sign of his perpetual worthlessness. But what if the opposite was true? What if Tony was right and compassion was a strength? What if something Gene had always dismissed out of hand was actually the key to the ring?

"Oh…" he breathed out, wide eyes staring blankly into the dark.

Tony stirred beside him. "Gene?" he asked quietly.

"Shh… just… let me think a minute."

The first Mandarin had found his many children unworthy; he had placed the rings in temples, their powers lying dormant until an heir whose blood was pure and heart was worthy passed the temple test to activate the ring. But to Gene's knowledge, the purple ring had always been active, no temple test required. But what if that was wrong? What if, up until this point, the ring had only been partially active?

Gene remembered clearly the voice whispering persistently in his head, asking if he was worthy. It was only when he had admitted that he wasn't and had begged for help for Tony's sake that the ring had materialized on his finger. Before meeting Tony Stark, Gene had never put another's well being over his own.

That was it; that was the key. He knew it to be the truth as soon as he thought it. The ring of Khan would only come to someone it found worthy, someone capable of compassion.

The watching presence that had haunted the room since Tony's unexpected confession began to fade away. _"You are worthy", _it whispered as it went.

Excitement raced through him, energized every cell in his body. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he called the ring, it would come to him. Just thinking about it let him feel a trace of its energy. They were connected, now and forever. It would never be taken from him again. It was tempting, so tempting, to call it to him now, to confirm in reality what his heart knew to be true. But just then Tony shifted his weight on his bedside perch and Gene's euphoria crashed head on with reality.

He couldn't do it, not now, not when Tony was so vulnerable. For Tony Stark, he could wait. He owed the teen that much; that much and more for being his first real friend. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn't matter if he left now or later. For the first time, he was free to do as he wanted. And he chose to help Tony, at least to the best of his limited abilities.

"Gene, are you okay?"

Gene regarded the shadowy form of the other teenager and smiled, hoping that the warmth he felt inside showed on his face. "I think I am. Are you?"

"I feel better, but not quite up to facing the happy Rhodes family. Do you mind if I hang out here a little while longer?"

"It's your lab… and no, I don't mind. What do you want to talk about?"

Tony thought in silence for a minute. Airing his confusing and conflicting feelings about his dad had been cathartic in its way, but he didn't really want to keep reliving them. It was enough to know that he wasn't alone in resenting his deceased parent, enough to know that someone understood. Nor did he think that Gene wanted to keep discussing his mom. What they needed was a lighter topic of conversation. Tony thought of and dismissed a couple of ideas before his mind lit on the perfect one, something that had been niggling at the corner of his brain for weeks now.

"Do you really think I'm a bad kisser?"

Gene stared at Stark in disbelief. Then he couldn't help himself. He started giggling. It built up into a laugh so hard that the bed shook with his mirth. Tony joined in; their combined laughter purging the remainder of the stress and tension into the air.

Maybe, just maybe, Gene thought to himself, it was good to have a friend.


	20. Crossroads

**Chapter Twenty:**

A soft, incessant beeping filled the room. After air-grasping for a non-existent alarm clock for a few minutes, Gene finally cracked open one sleep encrusted eye.

"Computer: lights, fifty percent," he ordered, as the darkened room gave him no hints in regards to the annoying sounds. Stark's mainframe complied; Gene found himself sitting in his one good chair, his stiff body pretty much protesting every movement.

Grimacing and rubbing his eyes, Gene squinted across the room. It was six-thirty in the morning and a blue LED under the video screen was pulsing in time with the beeps. With an audible groan, Gene allowed his tired eyes to sink back closed for a moment or two. All he wanted was to go back to sleep. But the noise wouldn't stop and it was obvious that the med-lab's other occupant wasn't going to wake up any time soon. So with a deep, fortifying breath, the sleep deprived teen hauled himself out of his make-shift 'bed'.

Stretching, he winced at the number of joints that cracked and popped in response. Everything felt fuzzy: his eyes, his mouth, his brain. Yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, Gene paused a moment to frown down at the still slumbering Tony Stark, who was comfortably ensconced in the room's only bed. His grumpy frown softened as he gazed at the other teen.

His face slack with sleep, Tony looked younger than his sixteen years. He was sprawled out on the bed, one leg dangling off at the knee, arms spread-eagled as he continued to snore blissfully away, oblivious to the world. Although how he managed to stay asleep with that repetitive sound going on was beyond Gene. Perhaps as the inventor of Iron Man, Stark was used to things beeping at him. Or maybe it was the vodka that he had admitted to imbibing the previous evening. Gene sighed and turned away from the other teen. At least Stark had an excuse for his talkativeness last night; the normally reticent teen could only wished he could say the same.

Padding barefoot across the room, Gene poked at the glowing blue button, not surprised in the slightest to see the worried, but disgustingly wide awake visage of James Rhodes materialize on the vid-screen.

"Hey, Gene, sorry to wake you up," the teen whispered. "This may sound a little crazy, but could you check the lab and see if Tony's there? He's not in his bed and my dad is usually a really early riser." Rhodey paused and took a good look at the other boy. "Are you okay? You don't look so hot."

"Stark snores." And Gene moved to the side to allow Rhodes a clear view of the bed.

Brown eyes widened almost comically. "Oh."

Gene yawned again while Tony's best friend tried to gather his thoughts. Ordinarily he'd probably find this amusing, but on three hours of snore-disturbed sleep, Gene was just annoyed by it all.

"So, um, where did _you_ sleep?"

"Chair," Gene answered tersely.

Rhodey made a sympathetic face. "I feel like I should apologize or something. I knew he was acting kind of funny last night, but I didn't think it was that bad. And normally when he disappears in the middle of the night, it's because he has some sort of crazy invention rattling around in his head." Rhodey paused, then asked softly, "This is about my dad coming home, isn't it?"

Gene gave him his best impassive expression. "You'd have to ask Stark that question."

The face in the vid-screen visibly hardened. "Fine, _whatever_. Could you _please_ get him up and back to the house? My mom is pretty laid back about Tony's little disappearing acts, but my dad won't be and he's already _way _too curious about the armory."

Gene was on the verge of telling Rhodes to come down here and do it himself, but at the last minute he changed his mind. "Fine," he agreed and then he turned off the monitor before the boy could irritate him more. He wasn't in the mood to deal with James Rhodes up close and in person, and getting Tony up and out could actually benefit him greatly. He could use a couple of hours of good, snore-free sleep.

Afterwards, the boy knew he needed some time alone to think. Something was happening to him, making him drop his guard more and more frequently, opening up his darker places to Stark. He could no longer trick himself and pretend that he didn't care about what happened to these good intentioned fools. And he wasn't sure he liked the gradual erosion of his natural defenses.

Now that he could summon the purple ring at will, he didn't have to stay here one second more if he didn't want to. However, Gene had found that he just wasn't comfortable with up and leaving Stark in his hour of need. Putting the well-being of someone else in front of his own desires was an alien concept for Gene Khan. It scared him a little. He needed time to think about it, to sort out what it meant. But first, sleep would be good.

He walked over to the bed and stared down at the still blissfully slumbering teen. "Wake up, Stark," he ordered, his voice gravelly. The boy didn't so much as stir.

"Stark!" Gene spoke louder this time. One hand reached out to shake his shoulder, but it never reached its destination. Although Gene knew Tony wouldn't have the same adverse reaction that he had last night, he couldn't bring himself to wake Stark in the same manner. He shuddered just at the memory.

Maybe he just wasn't making enough noise. More than slightly disgruntled at the amount of effort this was taking, Gene strode over to the metal framed chair that was already bent. He picked it up and tossed it against a wall. Without the force field in the way, it made a nice, resounding clatter as metal collided with metal.

Tony jerked upright. "Whazzat?" he mumbled, scrubbing bloodshot eyes as he squinted in the direction of the unexpected cacophony. "Gene?"

"Get up. Rhodes called and you need to get back to the house."

"What time is it?"

"Six-thirty."

"Oh." Tony digested that for a moment, then flopped back down on the bed and pulled the pillow over his head. "Wake me up at nine," he muttered, voice muffled.

Gene felt his eyebrows creep skyward. Stark obviously had no idea who he was dealing with. Striding back over to the bed, the young heir of Khan took a firm hold of the lowest sheet. Like a magician performing the tablecloth trick, he gave it a strong, quick tug. Of course, without the Makluan rings, Gene Khan could perform no miracles. Tony Stark landed on the floor in a jumble of sheets.

"Ouch! _Hey,_ what did you do that for? Man, you are mean."

"Mandarin," Gene reminded him smoothly. He gave the scowling boy a slight smirk, and then held out a hand. After a bit of grumbling, Tony accepted it and allowed his one time adversary to haul him to his feet. Struck by the irony, Gene suddenly grinned. Tony looked puzzled for a moment, but then reciprocated. Always the more serious of the two, the Asian sobered first.

"You do remember who is up at the house, right?"

"David; yeah. I acted like a jerk last night. I guess I owe Rhodey an apology. You too. Sorry I came down here and dumped my problems on your doorstep… and stole your bed. Sorry."

Gene waved it off, his pale purple eyes grave. "Will you be all right today?"

Tony's hair, already sticking up in all directions, did not benefit from the sheepish scrubbing he was giving it. "Yeah… I mean I think so. He really is a nice guy; I'm the one with the problem." Tony shook his head, as if he could dislodge all his troubles that way. "Nothing to it but to do it, I guess. Hey, will _you_ be okay? You'll be alone all day, you know. Want me to ask Pepper to come over and keep you company?"

"No!" Gene winced as that came out far more desperate sounding than he had intended. "No, thank you," he repeated in a more normal tone. "I'll be fine. It's no different from a school day. Enjoy watching grown men chase a rubber ball around for two hours."

Tony rolled his eyes and groaned at that and then departed with a yawn and a smile. Glad to finally be alone, Gene collapsed onto the still warm bed. He ordered the lights back off, exhaustion pulling his eyes closed in a matter of minutes.

Sleep, however, remained elusive. Now that Stark was gone, the temptation to summon his ring increased exponentially. As soon as he thought about the ring, he could feel its presence, its familiar energy tugging gently at the edge of his consciousness. All he had to do was reach out for it and it would be his: power, safety, freedom.

He curled up into a ball, wrapping his arms around himself as if he could reduce the urge to take back his ring that way. Gene hadn't thought it possible for his life to get any more complicated than it already was, but somehow it had. He could no longer deny his friendship with Tony Stark. And Tony, he felt, wanted to be friends with him too. But could Iron Man be friends with the Mandarin?

Gene rolled onto his back and stared sightlessly into the dark room, a self-deprecating smile curling his lips. Tony might be able to fool himself into thinking so, but that's what made him a hero; he was idealistic, optimistic and naïve. Pragmatism and realism were ways of life for Gene Khan; in the world of the Tong, one could not afford to delude oneself. True, as Tony had pointed out last night, Gene had never given much thought as to what he would do once he possessed all five rings. The goal of claiming his birthright, laid at his feet by his own dying mother, was large and difficult enough to be its own end.

World domination? Stark was probably right about it being a bigger headache than it was worth. He'd settle for being powerful, feared and respected; the absolute last guy in the world you'd want to step on or cross. He'd never be hurt again, never be afraid. It was his destiny as the last Khan and he _needed_ to accomplish it; for his mother, for his legacy and for himself.

And ironically enough, because of his association with Stark, because he actually _cared_ about the other teen, because he had learned _compassion_; his goal was now far more obtainable than it had been two days ago. But just because he had made a couple of friends didn't mean he could keep them. For now, defeating Zhang was a mutual goal that needed to be achieved, for both of their well-beings. But after that, if things went well… Gene would be the Mandarin again, permanently this time.

With a sigh, he rolled over onto his other side, wishing his brain would shut up so that he could sleep. But it refused. Like a dog with a bone, it continued to gnaw on the problem.

Being the Mandarin meant more than donning the evil-looking armor and walking around with super powerful rings; it meant being in charge of the Tong, a distinctly criminal organization. Before Zhang had been freed, Gene had intended to hide the fact that he had taken over his step-father's position from the Tong until he had gathered all five rings. Now that they knew of his deceptions, defeating Zhang utterly and completely would be the only way to secure his place as their leader.

Tony wasn't going to like what Gene was going to have to do; although _this _time, Gene was sure he could do the deed. All he had to do was think of Zhang and the hatred warmed his gut and flooded out into his system. He had been weak before, thinking that it would be enough just to incarcerate the old man; now he knew better. Zhang had to die. It was the only way.

After his step-father's latest attempt to supplant him as the last Khan, Gene was looking forward to seeing the expression on the bastard's face when he struck the final blow. Sweet, sweet revenge would _finally _be his. The usurper would learn once and for all which of them was truly _meant_ to be the Mandarin. Gene allowed his imagination to play with the notion for a while; it certainly wasn't the first time he had fantasized about killing his tormentor, but it was the first time he knew he absolutely intended to carry out the deed. No more mercy, no more weakness, no more mistakes.

Gene could feel his face twisting into an unpleasant smirk and he was glad that Tony wasn't here to witness it.

Tony… thinking of the teen inventor helped clear his blood-soaked visions away. If at all possible, he needed to face Zhang by himself, without the teen's annoying alter-ego around. For one, defeating Zhang with the help of Iron Man wouldn't count for much in the eyes of the Tong, nor would it assuage Gene's deep seated need to prove that every insult his step-father had thrown at him had been a lie. For two… he just didn't want Tony to see him at his worst.

No, he would confront Zhang by himself; it was possible now that he possessed the secret to summoning his ancestor's ring. After taking care of him, the next step would be to weed out the traitors who had freed the evil bastard in the first place. That could take months, if not longer. The Tong were usually pretty subtle with their illicit activities, but between the inevitable in-fighting and Gene's need to prove himself as their leader, it would be inevitable that Iron Man would stumble upon them every now and again. And then what?

Gene groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, as if he could quiet his over-active brain that way. Frustration and disappointment ate at him. It just wasn't fair! Why did Stark have to be Iron Man? Gene had been planning his ascension for three whole years; Tony had become Iron Man on a whim.

And yet… and yet Gene knew who was going to have to give if their fledgling friendship was to continue. Heroes were uncompromising; that's what made them _heroes. _They saw the world in terms of black and white: good and evil. The dark grey area Gene occupied would simply be viewed as evil. Good was not friends with evil; it just didn't work that way.

The troubled teen laughed a little; the sound carried no mirth. The funny thing was, if he had been darker, more ruthless and Mandarin-like when he had first wrested the power from his step-father, none of this would have happened. Zhang would be gone and he'd never had 'outed' himself to Stark in the first place. They'd still be going to school together, maintaining a sham friendship while searching for the other rings, their secrets safely hidden behind a web of lies.

In a way Gene missed those days. Back then he could have walked away at any time without more than a slight pang of regret. Now, after everything that had happened, it was going to hurt.

Damn Stark and his incessant patience, kindness and forgiveness! He had eroded Gene's walls, killed off his natural defenses and drowned him in an atmosphere of acceptance. There was no returning to the way things were before; Gene had felt the radiant warmth of true friendship and he couldn't simply cut his ties and move on and pretend it didn't matter.

Deep down, he knew what he was going to have to do. He was going to have to make a choice. He could be the Mandarin, _or_ he could have real friends. There was no way to do both. Stark couldn't both be a hero _and_ overlook the criminal activities of one of his friends, it was nonsensical to even contemplate the possibility.

Ironically, if Tony had been a little older, this probably would not be a problem. Being Iron Man was the bandage Tony used to alleviate the impotent feelings he possessed in regards to Stark International. Once he took over the company, he wouldn't need it anymore, not to mention that he'd be way too busy running the company to play hero.

But Gene couldn't wait two years. He was going to have a hard time waiting the week David Rhodes was in town. Zhang certainly wasn't going to wait around twiddling his thumbs. If he knew his step-father, the old man would either find a way to counterattack Iron Man in hopes of luring Gene out or he'd focus his efforts on finding yet another ring. Neither were acceptable scenarios.

No, he was going to have to confront Zhang first. And then, when the old man lay broken and powerless at his feet, Gene Khan would have to make his choice: the path of destiny or the somewhat scary, uncharted road Stark offered. After that, there would be no turning back.


	21. Goodbye

**Chapter Twenty-one:**

The car ride back from the airport was made in near silence. Roberta had attempted to engage the teens at first, but even she succumbed. A radio station filled the void with soft, classical music; not a selection either boy would have made, but apropos given the somber mood in the car.

Tony stared out the window at the passing skyscrapers; Rhodey mirrored the act in the other seat, his face morose. Tony tried to think of something comforting to say but his mind was a blank. _'Sorry that your dad left; but hey, at least you know you'll see him again,' _seemed self-centered and mean, even if it was true.

Frowning, the boy tapped his head against the slanted window, a not so subtle reminder to himself that today was about Rhodey and not him. Roberta's chocolate-colored eyes instantly appeared in the rearview mirror; Tony feigned fascination with the outside world. He was just glad that his best friend was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice.

At least it was over. He had made it through David's visit acting and reacting like a normal teenaged boy instead of the messed up head-job that he was, thanks in no small part to Gene. Not that the other teen had done or said anything spectacular, but he had listened. It had been a balm for Tony's troubled soul just to know that someone else truly understood what it was like to have such mixed up emotions in regards to his deceased parent. And just how difficult it was to act like nothing was wrong when your insides felt like shattered glass.

Tony drew strength from the fact that Gene had suffered the same loss and had found the inner fortitude to survive, despite being housed in far less hospitable circumstances than Tony found himself in. During David's visit he had reminded himself daily about how lucky he was that his guardians were kind, decent, loving people and that he got to live with his best friend. And even though Iron Man had kept a pretty low profile for the past week, at the end of it Tony found that he could talk to David a little bit about the robotic superhero without being taken over by resentment.

He owed that to Gene too. Although Tony felt that he was the one who was supposed to be helping Gene and not the other way around, he wasn't sure that he would have made it through David's visit in such good shape without his 'sounding board' to converse with. He was really very grateful that they had become friends and had gotten closer.

Gene must have felt the same way; he no longer tried to push Tony's buttons in attempts to get the other boy to release him. In fact, the former Mandarin had been downright pleasant the past week, not only to him, but to Pepper and Rhodey as well.

Tony's brows furrowed down thoughtfully, a touch of suspicion threading its way into his head. Now that he was ruminating on the subject, Gene's recent behavior almost mirrored his 'friend' act from before he had lost his rings to Zhang. 'Almost', because even back then the teen had often colored his words with dry sarcasm, an inflection that had been conspicuously absent as of late.

The more he thought about it, the fishier it seemed. Gene had been so angry and disappointed when he had failed to summon the purple ring from Pepper's hand; where had all that frustration gone? It was highly doubtful that it had simply vanished overnight. Tony had been so caught up in his own emotional turmoil that he hadn't even noticed the one-eighty shift in attitude until now.

Despite Gene's continuous claims to the contrary, even Tony wasn't naïve enough to believe that the other teen had given up on reclaiming his birthright from Zhang, but yet the youth had been utterly silent on the subject for the past week. Something was definitely off.

Trepidation began to spread throughout him. He knew of only one thing that would have temporarily appeased Gene's desire for vengeance and freedom, but that was impossible. There was no way the teen could have bypassed the high-tech security measures Tony had used to secure the ring.

Unless…

Unable to shake his rising anxiety, the teen inventor pulled out his POD. The device should have alerted him the instant a security breach took place, but he sent an inquiry to the armory's mainframe anyway. It came back with all systems clear and in the green. Next he sent a text to Pepper, asking her E.T.A. to the lab. Her immediate response brought a faint smile to his lips even as the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach grew.

'_First of all, you could have told me about how it went at the airport before you started making demands. Like, how is Rhodey doing? Did he cry? Is he crying now? Oh, wait, boys aren't supposed to cry, so maybe I shouldn't know if he is. But tell me anyways!_

_Secondly, you really should ask what I'm doing and if I'd be willing to go to the armory instead of demanding to know how long it would take me to get there. Hello – rude much? _

_And finally, why are you worried about Gene all of a sudden? And don't tell me that you're not because I know that is what this is about. You're being silly; he's been perfectly normal and nice this past week. Wait, is that an oxymoron? Ooh, I think I just answered my own question. Alright, I'll go, but I expect to be thanked when you get back. I'm at the mall, so it'll probably take me forty-five minutes to get there._

_Love ya, well not really, only as a really, really good friend…_

_You know what I mean,_

_Pepper'_

Rhodey, attracted by Tony's sudden activity, raised an inquiring eyebrow at the teen. Tony gave him a half-smile. "Text message from Pepper," he explained while flashing the word-filled screen at him. Rhodey smiled, a good sign because Tony could only deal with one potential disaster at a time. He cleared his throat to grab Roberta's attention.

"Um, Roberta? When do you think we'll get home?"

"Well, if we drive straight there, maybe thirty-five, forty minutes. But I thought we might stop for something to eat on the way. What do you boys think?"

Tony spoke over Rhodey, drowning out his 'Sounds great, mom.' "We can't! I mean, I kind of have this project at home that needs monitoring. I really should get back to it; um, if that's okay with you."

Rhodey scowled at him, not appreciating being talked over. Tony let his worry show on his face. "You know the one, Rhodey. The _twitchy_ one with all the _glitches_ that you told me I couldn't _fix_."

Comprehension dawned in the narrowed brown eyes. "You mean the one that has been glitch free the past week?"

"Yeah. I think it's been saving up its bad behavior for one big malfunction, that kind that happens when no one is around to stop it."

"Well, can't you check on it remotely?"

Tony mutely shook his head. Technically he could access the armory's security cameras, but that would only give him static views of the entry points, not of the entire lab.

"James?" his mother asked from the front seat.

Giving Tony a pointed 'you owe me' look, Rhodey sighed." Yeah, it is kind of an important project to him. I guess I'm not that hungry. Can we just go home?"

"That's fine boys. I have some paperwork to catch up on myself." Intelligent eyes monitored the back seat occupants. "So what's this project for?"

"School." "Fun." The boys exchanged mortified glances as their simultaneous answers contradicted each other.

"Um…" Tony said. "It's fun to do projects for school?"

The look in Roberta's eyes told Tony that she wasn't fooled in the slightest. To her credit, though, she only smiled in a knowing fashion and steered the car towards home.

Rhodey pursed his lips together, but Tony warded off any questions with a small shake of his head. With another frustrated sigh, the brown-eyed teen went back to watching the world pass by. Tony mimicked the action, but his eyes registered nothing as his brain replayed the past week, trying to spot any hints that Gene was plotting something. He came up with nothing, except for the suspiciously pleasant attitude the teen had been sporting. Maybe he was just being paranoid?

Desperately he looked further back, to the first night of David's homecoming, when he had startled Gene awake and ended up sleeping in the medical lab. They had talked about a lot of things that night; some of them achingly personal, some typical teenage foolishness. Gene had told him straight out that he still intended to find all five rings and become the Mandarin again. Tony had believed him to the point that at the next available opportunity, he had secured the purple ring better.

But if Gene had somehow figured out how to summon the ring… all of his security measured would be for naught. And that would explain his sudden placidity too.

As a prisoner, Gene had almost always displayed a kind of pent-up energy, usually released through sarcastic barbs or blatant attempts to get Tony to set him free. It made sense that his attitude would change once he ceased being Tony's 'captive', once staying became his choice instead of the only option.

The teen inventor absently chewed on his thumbnail as he followed his thought process through to its logical conclusion. Gene must have figured out how to summon the ring early on in the week, maybe even that first night. So why had he chosen to stay? Tony's ability to go out as Iron Man had been severely hampered with both David and Roberta home all week. It would have been the perfect opportunity for Gene to leave.

He came up with two answers: either his gut was completely wrong about Gene being gone, or… the last Khan had remained in the armory the past week to be nice, a last act of friendship before he left.

Tension mounted in Tony; he felt like a coiled spring. He ardently wished he could talk to Rhodey about this. His best friend understood people and their motives; Tony worked better with machines. Of course, Gene was usually the exception to that rule. Suppressing a heavy sigh, the teen genius solved calculus problems in his head to pass the time. All he could do was wait until they got home. Too bad patience had never been one of his predominant virtues…

* * *

Tony practically leaped out of the car as Roberta pulled into the garage. He maintained enough sense to lean his head back in the open passenger side window.

"Um… is it okay if I go down to the factory?"

"Go," Roberta said with a smile and wave. "I swear I haven't seen someone squirm so much since James was five…"

The lawyer blinked, realizing that both boys were already gone. Shaking her head with amusement, she exited the vehicle just in time to spot a taxi parking in her driveway. A familiar pink-clad girl clambered out of the yellow sedan, practically throwing her fare at the driver in her haste. She streaked down the long hill towards the factory, yelling and waving at the guys; telling them to wait up. Roberta leaned against the garage and watched as the teens disappeared into their usual hideout. Then, with a faint smile, she turned and went into her house.

There had been a time when Tony had been proud of the security measures protecting the armory, now they simply annoyed him as it seemed to take_ forever_ to access his hidden lair. As soon as the door began to crack open, he squirmed inside, calling out Gene's name as he entered. A part of him still held out hope that the other teen would answer, a touch of annoyance in his voice. The armory was silent.

"Maybe he's asleep... or fell down and got hurt?" Pepper suggested tentatively.

Though he doubted either scenario, Tony was desperate to maintain any hope. He and Pepper spread out to look, while Rhodey drifted over to the computer mainframe. A small piece of paper attracted his attention. "Hey, guys," he summoned, "check this out."

"Thank you for saving me from Zhang. Do not interfere further. –Mandarin" Tony read out loud. The room was silent as the three exchanged weighted glances.

"Why that snide little jerk!" Pepper exclaimed.

Tony shook his head. He turned and went to where he had locked up the ring. Even though he knew the truth, he had to see it with his own eyes to believe it. One by one he entered the codes; one by one his security measures were disabled. The inner steel box was empty. The purple ring was gone.

"He did it," Tony murmured, "he actually figured out how to summon the ring." He strode back over to his mainframe with purpose. A few keystrokes were all it took to bring up the right program.

Rhodey watched silently, but he grabbed Tony's wrist before he could hit the 'enter' button. "Tony, man, _think_. Maybe you should just let it go. He doesn't want your help. And now that he has a ring, he probably doesn't need it."

Tony frowned down at his keyboard, absorbing his best friend's words. Rhodey released his wrist and continued to talk. "Even if you do find him, what are you going to do? Battle him? Try and take his ring away? If he can call it to him at will now, there's no way to prevent Gene from being the Mandarin. We were only keeping him here for his protection. If he doesn't want or need that… then it's time to let him go."

"You're wrong." Both boys' heads turned in surprise to Pepper. "Think about it; even working together, Iron Man and the Gene-Mandarin barely held their own against Zhang. If Gene goes up against him by himself and Zhang wins, he'll have all three rings again and that means Iron Man won't have a chance."

Rhodey shook his head impatiently. "How can Gene lose his ring if he can call it to him?"

Tony clicked 'enter', drawing the debating teens' attention to him.

"Initiating Makluan ring energy scan," the computer announced. "Negative active signals detected in New York City. Trace energy signatures indicated." Two blue dots lit up: one at the armory, another centered in China Town.

Tony sighed. He called up a sub-screen and began typing furiously. Exchanging sideways glances, Rhodey and Pepper hovered to either side of him. "To answer your question, Rhodey, once I find Gene, I'm going to help him to defeat Zhang."

"To keep him from annihilating Gene and reclaiming the Kahn ring?"

"Yes and no, Pepper. Why do you think Gene left town? He did it for the same reason he waited a week before calling his ring. He doesn't want us to get hurt. He's trying to be a good friend. But friendship doesn't work that way. It's a two-way street. I'm going to find and help Gene because he's _my_ friend."

"Okay. But what are you going to do when your _friend_ is the all-powerful Mandarin?" Rhodey asked seriously.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"Um… Tony? Is that a government satellite you're hacking?"

"Yes, Pepper, it is. I need the range if I want to find Gene."

Rhodey gave a groan of dismay as Pepper uttered an awed 'cool'. Tony completed the link, making it untraceable by bouncing the signal through one of Stark International's satellites. Let Obadiah Stane worry about the Feds, if they managed to pick up the hack at all.

Once again he ran his Makluan ring scanning program. This time the result was positive; two active signatures, one pulse holding still in the hinterlands of Alaska and another rapidly moving north towards that location. A faint signature indicated that one of the rings had been active off the shores of Greenland no more than an hour or two ago. Crossing the moving signal's line of travel with the FAA's registered flight plans proved that it was one of Zhang's private helicopters.

"Wow," Pepper said. "Alaska? He really was serious about you not interfering."

"Even if you flew the Mark One at top speed, you'll never beat Zhang there," Rhodey added.

"Not if I fly the conventional way, no. But the Mark One has a few capabilities Gene isn't aware of…" Tony moved with a purpose towards the Iron Man launching chamber.

"Tony," his always pragmatic best friend was only a step behind. "That suit took some serious damage the last time you faced Zhang. With my dad being in town and everything, did you have time to fix it all?"

"The electrical systems should all be good. I had to disengage part of the modifications I made to the left repulsor. The heat shielding will only take one blast, maybe two." Tony was already climbing into his red and gold suit. Servos began to whirl and hum as the plating started to encompass his body. Before his face was covered, Tony engaged his friends with serious blue eyes.

"I know I can be headstrong and stubborn. I know I'm sometimes hard to put up with and I realize I might be a bit hypocritical in trying to teach Gene about relying on other people. I don't know what's going to happen out there. If you guys don't want to help…"

"Man, just get _out_ of here. Save the sappy speeches for _after_ you defeat Zhang."

"Yeah, Tony. You're not the only one in the room that considers yourself Gene's friend. Go and kick Zhang's butt. Then you can kick Gene's for even _thinking_ that he could just leave a note to say goodbye."

"Thanks guys." The faceplate closed and Tony was engulfed in a dark digital world. Engaging the launch sequence, he rocketed up the twisting tunnel that led to the outside.

"Computer, calculate the fastest way to intercept Makluan ring signature: One."

The response came back that the fastest way would be to arc into space, using the rotation of the Earth to shorten the distance. And he still wasn't going to beat Zhang there. Hoping against hope that Gene could hold out long enough against the duel ring wielding Mandarin, Tony energized his jet boots.

_**TBC…**_


	22. Unforgivable pt1

**Chapter Twenty-two:**

His step-father was late. Not that he had any fear of the old man not coming; a direct challenge issued in front of the higher ranking Tong ensured his eventual presence. He had even been expecting this tactic, but it was still annoying.

With a sigh, Gene Khan turned a slow circle, scanning both land and air for Zhang's conveyance. Nothing. The surrounding tundra was barren, save for the arctic fox creeping around on a nearby hill, apparently emboldened by the fact that the large black suit of armor wasn't moving much. Or maybe, much like the last Khan, it felt the significant risk was worth the potential reward of a successful hunt.

An icy breeze buffeted the Mandarin armor; inside, Gene had second thoughts about his choice of venue for this fight. He had picked Alaska on a whim, really. Getting away from New York had been a necessity; the further the better. Not only did the distant location ensure a lack of interference from the Tong, but hopefully it would also discourage other, more gallantly minded individuals from coming. To that end he had also chosen a remote location void of a human populous. No 'innocent' people to get caught in the crossfire, no police to interrupt the fight, absolutely no need for a certain self-righteous teenage inventor to get involved.

Gene frowned at the circle his thoughts were making. Like a kid with a freshly fallen out tooth, he just couldn't help but poke at this new hole.

He had, in fact, considered far more remote locations such as Siberia and Mongolia, which had a certain poetic justice quality to it, but practicality won out. As the possessor of the purple ring, Gene could teleport to any location he could envision in his head; Zhang, however, would be confined to more mundane methods of transportation. And Gene wanted to get this over with today, before his step-father had a chance to plot a countermeasure to his bold challenge.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, trying to rid himself of his rising anxiety. Today was it, the day he had been waiting for his whole life. From this point on he'd either be the one true Mandarin or he'd be a walking corpse, awaiting the harvest of his genetic material and then death. Either way, he'd finally know if he was truly worthy of his birthright.

The teen looked down at the ring adorning his black gauntlet. Purple, the color of royalty; how ironic that the only reason it responded to him was not because he was the last of the blood, but because he had learned to put the well-being of someone else on equal terms with his own considerations.

_Almost equal, _Gene corrected himself firmly. After all, he had sacrificed his potential friendships for this opportunity to grasp his destiny. The bottom line was that Gene Khan was still number one in his universe, with the others orbiting in distant ellipses.

_Keep telling yourself that, _his conscience mocked. _Keep poking at the edge of your wound and pretending it doesn't hurt. Maybe someday you'll convince yourself. _

The Mandarin shifted his position, rolling his stiffening shoulders and altering his stance. Yes, it hurt. He could admit that; he no longer felt shame for allowing such emotions to exist. But Gene subscribed to the theory that it was better to pull a bandage off quickly than to drag the process out. The friendship he had ended had still been in a fledgling stage; why let the bonds grow any stronger? That would only cause more pain in the end. If he was successful today, Zhang would be dead. Tony Stark might be willing to extend the hand of friendship to a former criminal, one with mitigating circumstances in his past, but he'd never be able to forgive a murderer and an active super-villain.

No… true friendship had simply never been in the cards for Gene Khan. He had tasted the potential, and it had been sweet, but he couldn't just throw away the sacrifices made on his behalf and his ancient lineage just to indulge the longings of his lonely heart. The only thing he could do was to cut the bonds as cleanly as possible and try to avoid further interactions with Stark and his red alter ego in the future.

A part of him wondered: if the situation was reversed, what would Tony do? Would the currently deprived inventor allow tentative friendships and an uncertain future to supplant his desire to take over his father's company? For all his insight into Anthony Edward Stark, Gene couldn't come up with a clear answer to that question. He supposed it didn't matter. He had made his choice.

A steady, rhythmic sound began approaching, the first sign of his enemy's arrival. Gene cast all his distracting thoughts aside, reaching for the anger and hate that always smoldered beneath his surface. The years of abuse he had suffered flashed in front of his mind's eye, stoking his internal flames. He saved the worst atrocities for last: his mother's dying gasps, Junrei's smirk as she embraced Zhang, Dr. Shunko's cold, clinical smile.

The fire raged within him, burning away his residual doubts and fears. No longer was he childish enough to believe that simply locking away his enemy would suffice. Zhang had often mocked his weakness; now he would reap what he had sown. Gene was ready to become the monster he needed to be to succeed. He was ready to embrace the supremacy that was his heritage.

The purple ring, responding to the rise in his inner energy, flashed with power. Gene felt it course throughout his armor, surrounding him like a second skin. He abandoned himself to the heady feeling, embracing it, letting it swell in the form of burgeoning confidence. By the time Zhang's helicopters landed, his hidden human face had unwittingly taken the form of the Mandarin's warrior grimace.

He watched as the Tong disembarked: twenty in all. The number was higher than he had anticipated, but not overly worrisome. He required witnesses to his eventual victory; it would make it far easier to secure the loyalty of the Tong later on. The grey-clad ninjas fanned out, creating a semi-circle around the aft of one of the helicopters. After a heartbeat or two, Zhang descended, not even in Mandarin form. Oddly enough, it caused Gene to be more ill at ease than if the man had come out with his rings blazing. What kind of game was Zhang playing to put on such a display of arrogant bravado?

The grey haired man strode calmly towards Gene, hands clasped behind his back; the Tong falling in behind him as he passed. The sixteen year old fought not to react to his step-father's non-verbal taunt. His hands twitched, wanting desperately to grab the handle of one of the three foot long, single blade swords he had strapped to his back – souvenirs from his impromptu visit to the Temple of Courage. In order to resist the urge, Gene crossed his arms in front of his chest. If Zhang could act nonchalant, then so could he. He would not allow his step-father to best him today, not at anything.

At a distance of about ten feet, the old man stopped. The Tong once again fanned out, this time creating a semi-circle around the two adversaries. Gene struggled not to feel alarm at this. He could teleport at will, damn it; he was not going to be intimidated.

Zhang's face twisted into his familiar, hateful smirk. "And so it has come to this. First you deceive the Tong and now you challenge me – your guardian. After all I have done for you, Temugin, you have turned on me in a last, desperate grab for power. What a pity. Your mother would be so ashamed."

All of Gene's best intentions to retain his self-control died in an instant. One of his purloined swords found its way into his hand before he could stop himself. He stared down its long black length at Zhang's heart. "Don't you _dare_ talk about my mother," he hissed.

The rapidly shrinking, rational part of his mind grasped the game Zhang was playing. Much like Gene, he was making a bid for the loyalty of the Tong; trying to portray his step-son as an usurper instead of the one true heir that he was. The Mandarin's gauntlet tightened on the hilt of his sword. All of his step-father's deceitful words would be for naught when he was dead.

The old man spread his hands out palms up in a placating motion, but the cruel glitter in his eyes belied the gesture. "You are but sixteen, Temugin. Too young to handle the power of the Mandarin; far too immature to be the leader of the Tong. It was your honorable grandfather's wish that I, his most loyal and trusted servant, fulfill the role until such time as you were ready to take the mantle. Return the ring you have stolen; accept your punishment for your crimes against the clan and we will go from there. Perhaps someday you will live up to your legacy."

"Liar. You always lusted after my grandfather's throne. Even as a child I saw it and he knew it too. His death came almost immediately after he forbade you from forcing my mother to bear you an heir. Was it old age as the doctor said or did his 'most loyal and trusted servant' get rid of the final obstacle in his path? The power was never yours to have, Zhang. I am the last Khan, the one true Mandarin. This ring on my finger is proof of that."

A low murmur whispered through the Tong ranks at Gene's words. One of the masked minions raised his voice. "Master Khan, is this true? Do you have proof that your grandfather' death was _arranged_?"

Zhang whirled around. "Who said that?! Who _dares _question me? This _child_ is the son of a grocer and a disobedient _slut_; his so-called bloodline legacy is both an accident and a disgrace to the Tong. He even rejects his own name. Is that who you wish to lead the clan as Mandarin? He is not worthy; he will _never_ be worthy. All he is is a mistake."

Gene stood silently, his step-father's hateful words pummeling his heart and soul. He had always feared and loathed the old man and yet Zhang had been the only parental figure in his life for the past seven years. The cruel bastard had not been entirely incorrect when he had insinuated that Gene was still a child looking for a father's approval. Perhaps that's why he had locked him up instead of finishing him off the first time.

Now, that tiny shred of hope for acceptance shriveled up and died. In Zhang's eyes he would always be inferior and unworthy to the potential heir his mother had taken to the grave with her. He would never be forgiven for the sin of being born outside the clan, for having a father who was not Zhang. The death of his childish desire for parental love hurt.

Gene banished the pain to a corner of his mind, next to the pain his sacrifice of friendship had caused. He'd deal with it later. For now, only the anger and hate mattered. He'd use it to prove once and for all that he was worthy of the name Khan and the power of the Mandarin.

He held up his hand, the purple ring flashing with energy. "The ring chose me, Zhang. If you wish to be the one true Mandarin, you will have to take it from me. But even if you manage that, you will always know in your heart that the ring of Khan preferred me, a lowly son of a grocer, to you."

Zhang gave an inarticulate snarl. He shimmered and transformed. A wall of flame materialized between the two Mandarins. It raced towards Gene, devouring the tundra with an inhuman roar. He teleported out of its way; reappearing next to Zhang and swinging one of his huge swords towards his step-father's as yet unprotected head.

In a smooth movement that belied his age, the elder Mandarin ducked under the decapitating strike, grabbing one of Gene's wrists and using the boy's own momentum to throw him over his hip. Gene hit the ground hard and rolled awkwardly, the bulky armor limiting his natural agility. Zhang took the opportunity to put on his helmet before calmly striding over to the prone teen.

"That was a killing blow, Temugin. Although your mother's cowardice taints you through and through, perhaps I have taught you something over the years after all."

"My mother was brave!"

Gene rolled sideways and onto his feet. His step-father stood unconcerned; Gene's dropped sword in his left hand, two glowing Makluan rings on his right.

The teen made to reach for his second sword before reconsidering. He could almost hear Tony's voice warning him towards caution. With the rings of Wisdom and Courage, Zhang had all the offensive power while Gene's ring had mostly only defensive capabilities. That was why he had taken the weapons from the Temple of Courage in the first place. Directly confronting Zhang would most likely gain him nothing. He needed to remain calm and use his greater mobility to his advantage. Even if it meant looking like a coward.

He took a step back and teleported; Zhang's mocking laughter ringing in his ears. Gene didn't go far; he emerged a scant three feet to his step-father's right, sword already in a two-handed downwards strike towards the Mandarin's vulnerable elbow joint. Removing the rings would mean winning the battle!

Unfortunately he had underestimated Zhang's cleverness. The force of Gene's strike ran into a thick wall of blue 'water', the viscous fluid absorbing and halting the sword's momentum. Then it expanded outward, quickly engulfing the blade, tendrils reaching hungrily for his two hands.

With a curse, Gene released his second weapon, engaging his own shield. The semi-translucent white sphere halted and pushed back the encroaching blue fluid, rapidly expanding outward until Zhang himself was thrown out of its path. That gave the last Khan an idea. Although he had learned from his past experience the folly of trying to teleport too close to the dual ring wearing Mandarin, he had never before attempted to teleport exactly into the space occupied by another person.

With a grim smile he fixated his gaze on his opponent's struggling form and triggered his ring. For a moment, Gene believed himself triumphant, as his plan threw the other Mandarin twenty feet into the pale sky. Alas, he had forgotten that his step-father, while unable to teleport, could still fly.

Once he stabilized from his unexpected launching, Zhang began hurling fireballs at Gene, who took shelter behind his energy shield. Seemingly enraged, Zhang bombarded the shield with fire, blackening the earth around the sphere.

Too late did Gene realize that it was all a distraction. He heard a click and a beep; his gaze sifting downwards in alarm. A silver-colored cylinder, dropped by Zhang during his launching, lay at his feet, a red LED flashing an ever increasing tempo. The teen's eyes widened as he recognized the tell-tale scripted 'S' decorating the casing; this was a part of a cache of Stark International weaponry he himself had lifted off the Maggia months ago. Desperately he shattered his existing shield, attempting to reform it closer to his body.

Too late. A brilliant flash of incandescent light blinded him while a silent shockwave blew him completely off his feet. Gene felt himself being thrown through the air. Unable to orient himself, he crashed head first into the ground. Although the armor absorbed most of the damage, the impact still hurt, even more so because he had been utterly unprepared for it.

Gene rolled to his hands and knees; blind, dazed and choking on the blood that was pouring out of his nose. Temporarily befuddled, the boy attempted to rub his eyes, the harsh sound of metal abrading against metal helped clear his head. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear the after-images that consumed his vision. A very faint crunch to his left was the only warning he got before a steel-enshrouded boot made violent contact with his mid-section.

* * *

Tony Stark was less than a mile out from the center of Makluan ring activity when a flash of brilliance lit up the horizon. He only had time to throw an arm in front of his face plate before a silent pulse buffeted the armor, tossing him about like a cork in the sea. His systems blinked but recovered; he unshielded his eyes just in time to avoid flying straight into the ground.

"Um, what was that?" Rhodey's voice came over the Comm. as Tony regained both altitude and stability.

"I don't know. I don't think that was a Mandarin power."

He shot up higher, gaining an eagle's eye view of the battlefield. A few zoom-ins later and he could see everything as clearly as if he were there. One Mandarin was on the ground, looking worse for wear; the other hovered in the sky briefly and then flew down, alighting to the left of his prone foe.

"Which one is Gene?" Pepper asked anxiously as the standing Mandarin attempted to kick a field goal through the other one's ribcage.

Tony engaged his targeting system. After scanning both Mandarins, it identified the upright one as its target - the possessor of two rings. "Damn," he swore softly as Zhang stalked towards his crumpled up opponent. A few seconds later and the elder man had removed Gene's ring bearing gauntlet, holding it aloft triumphantly towards the distant, observing Tong.

"Well… what are you waiting for?" Pepper demanded impatiently.

"Yeah man. Don't tell me you flew all that way just to watch Gene get his butt kicked."

"Wait guys… just wait."

Pepper was indignant. "Wait for _what_? For Zhang to take his head off? I know I said he was a big jerk and he is, but he's a jerk like you; well, not that you're a _real_ jerk but you like to keep things to yourself and us out of the action which is jerky and rude and…"

"Pepper! Just wait. Zhang can't kill Gene, remember? I know things look bad, but let's just hold on for a minute and give Gene a chance." As he spoke the Mandarin armor evaporated off his friend, who was now lying curled up and bloody on the tundra, one arm wrapped around his mid-section as the other weakly rubbed his eyes.

The Zhang-Mandarin turned back to his step-son; Tony couldn't hear, but imagined the old man was engaging in villainous gloating. Although he had just finished urging his friends to show patience, he was itching to fly over there and kick the crap out of Zhang. But even though the temptation was great, he resisted. Gene needed this: the opportunity to defeat his tormentor on his own, to prove once and for all that his step-father's cruel denunciations were nothing but lies.

At one point Tony had wanted to take the rings and permanently dispose of them; he had imagined that the act would free Gene to live his life as he chose. But now Tony knew that had been a selfish desire. The rings were as much a part of Gene as Stark International was of Tony. A forced separation would just make his friend more angry and miserable than anything else. Just as interfering in this fight before it was absolutely necessary would do nothing but foster resentment. If Gene truly needed him, he'd be there in a heartbeat, but until then…

Iron Man hovered in mid-air, watching and waiting and praying with all his heart that Gene would somehow triumph over Zhang.


	23. Unforgivable pt2

**Chapter Twenty-three:**

The last heir of Khan felt his armor dissipate off of him, leaving his teenaged body vulnerable and exposed. It didn't bother him as much as it should have; regaining his sight and his breath were Gene's foremost concerns. He rubbed and blinked and gasped for air while Zhang gloated; it wasn't until his step-father's Mandarin form turned back to him that the first trickles of ice-cold fear began stabbing at his entrails.

Gene managed to scramble to his feet, his ribs screaming while blood dripped steadily out of his nose and down the front of his shirt. His sight was beginning to return, helping to calm him slightly. He forced himself to stand erect; his face twisting into what he hoped was an expression of arrogant superiority.

The Tong were watching; watching and waiting to see who their true leader was. He _had_ to win this fight. If he lost or ran away, he'd never regain his grandfather's empire, no matter how many rings he possessed. Not that he truly wished to run a criminal organization; it was the principle of the thing. Zhang the usurper could not be allowed to keep any of what he had stolen, the dead spirits of his mother and grandfather would not allow it. Gene's own pride would not allow it. He had sacrificed his friendships for this and he _would_ emerge triumphant.

He heard the steady clank-clank as the heavy armor approached him. He could feel the Makluan rings energized on Zhang's gauntlet; their power prickling over his skin and raising the hair on the back of his neck. Even without his full sight, he knew his purple ring had joined its brothers on Zhang's hand. Its power called to him, a sweetly-whispered siren song that trilled through his very core. It gave him the confidence to tilt his chin up defiantly.

Almost. His vision was almost back to normal. But the Mandarin stood before him now, a dark shadow against a background of light.

Without preamble, the monster struck. Gene had just enough time to duck under the blow; a few strands of his fine black hair were torn out by the passing gauntlet. It was fortunate for him that while the Mandarin armor granted its wearer great strength, the bulk of it took the edge off of Zhang's lightning speed.

Gene's rolling dodge took him around to his step-father's back. "Careful old man," he taunted. "You forget whose blood keeps the power in the rings."

The Mandarin whirled, snapping out with a kick that Gene just barely managed to avoid. "I forget nothing. Dr. Shunko waits there with her medical equipment. We will keep you alive with machines, just long enough for another heir to be born. With any luck, you'll be cognizant enough to suffer those nine months."

Gene felt a mind-numbing chill run through him, followed by a flash of vengeful hate. That woman, here? She was _not_ going to touch him again! The fire burned the remnant fear out of his system. It consumed him from within, coursing through his veins like molten lava. He tasted blood and realized he had bitten his own lip. Zhang misinterpreted the gesture as one of apprehension. He laughed; the Mandarin's deep booming voice amplifying the malevolence.

Gene's bloody lip curled upwards in a silent snarl. He had stalled long enough. Except for a slight residual afterimage that shadowed his surroundings every time he blinked, his vision had completely returned. The teen stood there, trembling with rage as his step-father laughed. _Now_ was the time. He summoned his ring.

It returned to him as it had in Stark's lab; appearing instantly on his finger in a flash of white light. And, as it had before, losing the ring made Zhang lose his Mandarin form, just for an instant. Gene struck in that moment, putting all of his fury into a roundhouse kick. Zhang, caught completely off guard, had no time to even turn with the blow. His head snapped to the side with a sickening crunch; he flew sideways and collapsed stunned to the ground.

Gene poured his chi into the ring of Khan, triggering its power. It responded like a fire to the bellows, roaring to life, repaying his energy tenfold. Once again he stood strong and tall as the Mandarin, the black, grimacing armor an outward reflection of the dark place currently occupied by his soul.

"Get up," he ordered his dazed nemesis. Zhang shook his head slowly; his brains so addled that he couldn't even retrigger his rings. The weak, frail human at his feet enraged Gene further. _This_ was his tormentor? The one he had lived in fear of? This man was _nothing_. How had Gene allowed _nothing _to control him for so long?

Growling, he snagged the front of Zhang's shirt in his gauntlet, easily forcing the old man to his feet.

"Get up. Transform. Fight me!" He shook his step-father like a rag doll. Two shaky hands raised up to grasp his gauntlet. Zhang's grey eyes were dull; his rings remained unresponsive.

Every pathetic gesture raised Gene's fury higher; he felt cheated somehow, denied the hard won victory he had envisioned for years. His world became tinged in red, while his heart and soul occupied a cold, detached place. There was no question anymore whether or not he could finally dispose of the old man. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could do it in this moment and feel nothing – no guilt, no regret, just the satisfaction of finally ending Zhang's tyranny over him once and for all.

He held his false father aloft with one hand, with only Zhang's tip-toes touching the ground, just like his step-father had dangled him all those years ago. Gene's right fist drew back. As the Mandarin, all it would take was a single punch.

"Goodbye, Zhang. May you rot in hell," he snarled, swinging with all his might.

A flash of red and gold invaded his vision; his fist connected with something far more solid than human flesh and bone. The sound of metal striking metal rang through the air. Gene blinked, his mind lost to madness. Iron Man! Iron Man had torn Zhang from his grasp, intercepting his fatal blow. The air crackled with energy as he let out an inarticulate roar of frustration. Both the red armored superhero and Zhang lay on the ground, with Iron Man shaking his head and beginning to move to his feet. The Mandarin was going to crush them both!

"Wait," Iron Man coughed out. "Gene, wait. Hold on a minute." And the exo-suit actually made a 'time-out' gesture.

A tiny corner of Gene's mind that had retained its sanity also intervened, screaming at him to take a moment to stop and think. The world lost its red hue as sanity struggled to the forefront. Iron Man was no longer a faceless irritant in the way of his quest for the Makluan rings; he was Tony Stark, the one who had saved him, Gene's first real friend. Ironically, as soon as that realization surfaced, so too did the boy's rage.

"You dare to protect _that_?! To get in the way of me and my vengeance?!"

Tony spoke softly to keep the not-so distant Tong from overhearing. "No… no… but I _would_ get in the way of you and a big mistake. Don't _do_ this, Gene. It's over. You've won. Don't lower yourself to his level. Your entire life he's tried to make you into a monster, to force you into becoming his heir. Don't let him win."

"You understand nothing. Now get out of my way."

A weak laugh drew both armored teenagers' attention. Zhang had risen to his feet. "Your concern is touching, Iron Man, but unnecessary. My step-son is too much of a coward to..."

"You need to shut up now!" Tony jabbed the former Mandarin in the solar plexus. It wasn't delivered with near the force of Gene's attempted blow, but it was enough to drive the air out of his lungs.

Zhang's icy grey eyes looked surprised, as if he couldn't believe that anyone would dare strike him. Clutching his mid-section, he fell to his knees. Tony put Iron Man's left hand on his shoulder, using his modified repulsor to direct a shock into the old man's system. It was no longer strong enough to affect an armored foe, but against a human it worked just fine. Zhang convulsed with the pulse and then collapsed to the ground unconscious.

The unexpected display of violence from Tony Stark helped clear some of the thought-clouding rage from Gene's head. A further surprise came when Iron Man promptly dropped to one knee beside the fallen villain, pulling out the elder's hand and tugging the two remaining rings from his limp fingers. In one smooth motion, without hesitation or doubt, the red exo-suit rose back to its feet, the rings offered up on the palm of one hand.

"Here. These are yours. This is what I should have done in the lab, and I'm sorry I didn't. I guess I didn't want to lose you as a friend. And I still don't. I know where you're coming from, _honestly_ I do. But this _isn't_ you. You're not a murderer, Gene; _don't_ cross that line. Because if you do…"

The superhero fell silent, unwilling to speak the ultimatum. Gene heard it anyway, saw it hanging in the air between them, saw it in Iron Man's semi-defensive stance. And underneath the armor, he imagined he could see Stark standing there with a small but genuine smile, still holding out his hand, still trying to save Gene, this time from himself, from the consequences of his fury.

Frozen in the Mandarin's armor, Gene warred within himself. Tony, for all his good intentions, was still hopelessly naïve. Killing Zhang would be the only way to finally be free of the old man's threat. There was no prison that could hold him, no place on Earth where he'd be incapable of rebuilding his authority and coming after Gene. So long as Zhang was alive, the Tong would always have divided loyalty; the last heir would always have to be looking over his shoulder, driving himself mad with paranoia.

And then there were Zhang's crimes. He _deserved_ to die! Gene had waited long enough for his revenge. His thirst for vengeance would not be sated without Zhang dead at his feet. Damn, Stark; _damn_ him, he knew not what he asked.

Gene attempted to wall up his heart, to reclaim the cold, clinical outlook he once regarded the other teen with. As a pawn, Stark was now useless; as Iron Man, he was an incorrigible irritant. Friendship? Bah, who needed it? He had cut his ties with the others when he had left the lab. Tony had chosen to come here, to be an obstacle, and if he had to pay a price for that, then what did Gene care?

Inside the dark safety of his armor, the Asian teen closed his eyes. The Mandarin's heightened hearing picked up on movement. The Tong, who had been neutral thus far, were getting restless. What must they be thinking, watching as Iron Man unexpectedly interfered in the clan leadership struggle in the middle of Alaska? Were they wondering who Iron Man was, to be holding a secret conference with the sole heir of Khan in the center of a battlefield? Would they now pick Zhang's side to even the odds?

If he wanted to seize power, this was no time to vacillate. The time to act was now.

Opening his eyes, he reached out and took the rings from Iron Man's outstretched hand. He slipped them onto his fingers, feeling their dormant abilities ignite with an infusion of his chi. Three Makluan rings: more than enough power to defeat Iron Man and finish off Zhang. And when he had all five, he'd be able to do and have anything he wanted. Anything at all… except…

Except for Tony's friendship. Whether he understood Gene's motives or not, murder would always be unforgivable in the hero's book. Gene would never be forgiven, and he'd always be alone. Did he really want to make that sacrifice? His heart torn in two, he finally made his decision.

The new Mandarin turned to the Tong; raising his ring-bearing fist above his head. A spark of chi caused them all to flash with power.

"Kneel before your Master!" he bellowed.

The grey-clad ninjas hesitated, glowing eyes furtively darting betwixt themselves. The moment stretched and Gene's apprehension grew. Then the Tong Captain took a step forward and fell to one knee, one fist pressed against his heart and his head bowed in a show of fealty. The others swiftly followed.

"Rise," the Mandarin ordered. "Restrain Dr. Shunko and leave her here. The rest of you will return to New York City immediately!"

Again, that moment of hesitance. Gene didn't like it; the Mandarin was supposed to inspire immediate obedience. Cleansing the Tong of Zhang's supporters was going to be an arduous task. Worse, despite his demonstrated ability to summon the Khan ring, there might be those amongst the Tong who would seek the Mandarin's position for themselves. How many rings would it take before he was finally secure? All of them, the teen knew. Only when he had all five would he obtain the freedom he sought. He had journeyed so far and yet he had only begun to walk along the path to supremacy.

Feeling a mounting sensation of depression, he turned back to Iron Man and the still unconscious Zhang. He drew closer to his heroic counterpart. "There is a woman to be left here. If I see her face, she will die before the first screams can rip free from her body."

The red and gold helmet nodded once. "I'll take care of it. And Zhang?"

Gene stepped around Tony and stood next to his nemesis. "I'll take care of him." Almost before he had finished speaking, the teleportation sphere appeared and swallowed them both.

"Tony," Rhodey's serious voice came over the Comm. "Do you want me to track him?"

Tony Stark stood silently for a few minutes, watching as a trussed up woman was thrown from the back of one of the helicopters. One whirlybird was already taking off; the other's rotor was just beginning to turn. He zoomed in on the woman's face and recognized her instantly. His own barely stifled rage rattled around inside him, only numbed by the chill that had tainted his exchange with Gene.

For better or for worse, he still considered the Chinese boy to be his friend; whether the other teen felt the same way remained to be seen. Tony knew only too well how frustrating it could be when Rhodey put the brakes on his actions, even though his best friend was always right to do so. For Gene, the experience would probably be the final nail in the coffin of their friendship.

But… he_ did _stop, didn't he? He had stopped and seemingly had calmed down. He had left rather than force the issue. And he had trusted Tony to take care of his would-be rapist, rather than dealing with her himself. Perhaps all was not lost after all.

"No," he belatedly answered his friend. "Disengage the Makluan ring tracking system. I need that satellite for something else anyways."

"Do I even _want_ to know?"

"No, probably not. You and Pepper should take a walk; that way you can maintain plausible deniability."

"Tony, like it or not we're in this together. Do what you have to. If that woman is who I think she is, she deserves it."

"Yeah, Tony. Let's see some of that Stark genius in action." Pepper's cheerful voice chimed in.

Tony smiled a little in spite of himself. Then he zoomed in on Shunko's face and took a close-up picture. Superimposing it over a mug-shot background, he used his uplink to the government satellite to create a most wanted file for her, listing her as a person suspected of stealing nuclear secrets from one of the government's testing facilities. By the time he was done making her false history, he knew there was no way she'd ever see the inside of a courtroom, let alone win her freedom. All Iron Man had to do now was drop her off at the nearest military base.

Then he'd return home. And wait. And hope.

* * *

The mood in the armory after he returned was a somber one, with each member of Team Iron Man lost in contemplation.

Tony sat next to his wall of monitors, one hand drumming its fingers next to the keyboard. His first move upon returning had been to sever his link to the government satellite he had hacked, plus covering up any evidence of his presence in the Stark International orbiter. Now he was starting to regret the action; without the larger system he could only scan New York City for Makluan ring energy. And since he had ended his uplink _before_ looking for Gene (which at the time had _seemed_ like a noble idea) he had no idea where the teen had gone after leaving Alaska.

Rhodey, still perched in the Communication's Center chair, was similarly quiet; only Pepper was successfully fighting off the melancholy that had invaded the room. She shifted and fidgeted and paced about, her eyes darting between the brooding boys, obviously fighting the urge to talk up a storm about the day's events. Given the circumstances, her restraint was admirable… but ultimately fruitless.

"Well?" she exploded suddenly. "Do you think he went through with it? You know… with Zhang. Do you think he…" she made a harsh noise while making a slicing motion with the flat of her hand across her throat.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Nice, Pepper. Very subtle."

"Oh come on. Like you're not thinking about it. Tony?"

The teen inventor shook his head. In truth his thoughts had been more oriented on whether or not he'd ever see his friend again… and in what form. Would Iron Man and the Mandarin have to continue their animosity? But that was stupid; Tony didn't hate Gene. And while he had been unable to stand at a distance and watch a murder be committed in front of him, he found himself caring less and less about Zhang's fate and worrying more and more about Gene's as the time crept slowly by.

"You know, if he _did _do it, that would make him _bad,_ with a capital 'B'. I mean, he was always a little dark before, even when he pretended to be nice. And being the Mandarin isn't a good thing." The red-head gave a nervous giggle. "Can you imagine that on a job resume? 'What are your qualifications, Mr. Khan?' 'Well, I secretly ran a criminal organization at the age of sixteen…' her voice trailed off. "But murder is…"

"Give it a rest, Pepper."

The hazel-eyed girl sighed and then gave Tony her best smile. "I know. I'm sorry; I'm just worried. For what it's worth, I _really _hope he didn't do it. I mean, for all the sarcastic, jerk-wad moments he had… he was completely capable of being an okay guy too. I'm kind of used to having him around. I hope he comes back. And if he doesn't, you should whip out the Smack-down Armor on him, kick his Mandarin backside all over New York, and then sit him down and explain the friendship thing again using pre-school words!"

Tony laughed a little despite his mood. He knew Pepper was trying to cheer him up and he was grateful for it. He opened his mouth to make a joking comment in return when the armory's alarms went off.

"Alert: Makluan ring signature detected."

Tony scanned the monitor with a frown. "But that's right here…"

A flash of white light confirmed the computer's sensors. The Mandarin materialized in the room, as dark and fierce looking as ever. The room was utterly quiet; the three teens seemingly frozen in place as the fearsome warrior stood there silently.

Tony was the first to break the hush. "Gene?" he queried hesitantly.

The Mandarin shifted position. "I put him somewhere very cold," he uttered in his deep, reverberating voice. And then he was gone.

_**To be concluded…**_


	24. Pandora's Box

**Chapter Twenty-four:**

_One week later…_

"Watch your back, T!" Rhodey urged from the safety of the Comm. Chair as he observed Killer Shrike lining up for a shot. Iron Man whirled about, repulsors blazing. The flying villain nimbly dodged the blasts. Tony's distraction gave Unicorn another opportunity to attack.

"Arg! Is it me, or are these guys really annoying today?" Tony growled as the duo forced him to seek cover behind a stack of shipping containers.

Rhodey wisely kept his mouth shut. In his humble opinion, Tony had been in a foul mood for days now, ever since he had tried to track down Gene at the antique shop only to find it boarded up with a 'For Sale' sign hung on the door. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of Gene Khan or his more sinister identity since the day he had reclaimed his birthright from Zhang.

Privately, Rhodey had been hoping that fighting Unicorn and Killer Shrike would help alleviate his best friend's mounting frustration at the situation, but so far it only seemed to be pissing him off more. Maybe it was because the two henchmen for hire had been hijacking a shipment of Stark International weapons, weapons that Tony hadn't even known existed until this point. Whatever the reason, Tony's dark mood just seemed to be getting worse. He was just glad Pepper wasn't here to see it.

"Rhodey? I know you're busy and all, but how about a little help here?" the superhero asked, sarcasm audibly dripping off every word.

James Rhodes rolled his eyes. "You know, just because Gene's gone doesn't mean you have to channel his attitude," he muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, the high tech microphone picked it up.

"What was that?" Tony demanded.

"Uh, try throwing some of the crates at them for a distraction."

The teen hero snorted derisively, but complied. Mentally, Rhodey chided himself for being preoccupied with his own thoughts. He straightened in his chair, determined not to allow his attention to slide any more. His promise to himself was almost instantly broken, however, when the armory's intruder alarm sounded.

"Rhodey? What was that?"

James had no time to answer; a ball of fire smashed into the Comm. Center's monitors, sending him sprawling to the floor. Covering his head with his arms, he crawled behind the nearest lab table.

He was under attack! Maybe he could make it to the Iron Man storage chamber and don one of Tony's spare suits? His brain temporarily frozen in panic, Rhodey couldn't remember whether or not the other prototypes were fully functional. He could hear more destruction; the armory's alarms fell silent. Cautiously he peeked over the top of his sheltering table.

Black armor reflecting the jumping sparks of electricity, the Mandarin pulled his fist out of one of Stark's hard drives, the one that contained his data on the Makluan rings. Bits of wire and circuitry clung to his clawed gauntlet as the Mandarin jerked his hand free. The smell of ozone swiftly filled the air. The glowing eyes searched the room, as if looking for something else to destroy. Rhodey was trapped between fear and outright anger.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, partially rising from behind the table. The large dread-knight turned to face him. Although quailing on the inside, Iron Man's best friend stood firm. Then a small corner of his mind reminded him that the Mandarin looked the same no matter who donned the rings. So instead of being the smug Chinese teenage brat that needed a good telling off, it was perfectly possible that the Mandarin in front of him was an evil, old Chinese man who would be more than willing to kill him.

"Gene?" he asked tentatively, ready to duck for cover. The Mandarin remained silent for a tense few minutes, then lifted both hands up to pull off his helmet.

"It's me, Rhodes," the Chinese teen announced as he revealed his face.

Feeling more confident, James rose to his full height. He refused to be afraid of the boy in front of him; scary, super-powerful armor or not. Righteous fury, stoked by Gene's actions, took over.

"What is _wrong _with you?! Tony's out there fighting criminals; he could get seriously hurt without my help, and you destroy my only means of communicating with him?!" Rhodey gestured wildly at the still-smoldering Comm. Center.

Gene's face was a frozen mask of indifference. He looked as bored and detached as he had whenever Rhodey, Happy and Pepper had gotten into a basketball discussion at school. Even though he had removed his helmet, he was still every inch the Mandarin and the other boy felt a few remnant prickles of fear running up his spine.

The armored teen gave the destroyed Comm. Center a disinterested glance. "Stark is in no danger."

"How do you know that? Killer Shrike and Unicorn are class 'A' rogues who work for… the highest… bidder." Brown eyes widened as Rhodey made an intuitive leap. "It, it was _you_; wasn't it? _You _hired them to hit that warehouse. You did it to get Tony out of the way, so you could come here and do this."

A vague ghost of a smile flitted across Gene's face. "His ability to track my rings is… inconvenient. And let's just say that those two owed me a favor."

James felt part of his anger dissipating. If the Mandarin had hired the two villains, then chances were that he had given them specific orders to _not_ harm Iron Man, only to keep him busy as long as possible. But to do this while Tony was gone…

"It's over, isn't it? You're drawing a final line in the sand and daring Iron Man to step over it. You're going to go back to hunting the rings, and if Tony gets in your way…" he trailed off. No. Gene was a skilled actor, a master of masks and deception. But because he had watched his interactions with Tony, Rhodey knew better than to accept this apparent callousness at surface value. He tried a different tract.

"You know that won't be enough. It's like you said at the Temple of Wisdom: Tony chases the rings because it's the one part of Howard Stark's dream that he can still follow. Do you honestly think he'll give it up just because you broke a few of his computers? Tony will have this place up and running again in a few days; this will only make him more determined."

Gene had been staring at a point somewhere to the left of Rhodey's head. His black brows furrowed down ever so slightly; the only outward sign that he had heard the other teen at all. Slowly, tiny cracks in his mask appeared. His eyes narrowed, his lips thinned and his gaze shifted down to his own right hand. "I think you might be right," he finally admitted with a sigh.

"Why are you trying to end your friendship? I don't buy the cold act; you and Tony were… _are_ too close for this."

Gene's gaze remained locked on his ring-bearing gauntlet. "I did not think you were this naïve, Rhodes. The Mandarin does not have friends. Now that Gene Khan is the Mandarin, he does not have friends either. Besides, Stark's usefulness to me is at an end."

"_Bullshit_."

Gene's gaze slid sideways, Rhodey's uncharacteristic swearing made him raise a brow. "I suppose along with trashing the place, I could _hurt_ you. That would get my point across."

Rhodey shifted his weight involuntarily backwards. Gene had spoken so matter-of-factly that he couldn't tell if the other boy was actually serious. To cover his body's reaction, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and attempted to appear unimpressed. "Hurt me and he'll chase after you even harder."

The vague smile flitted across Gene's face again. "Hmph. You may be right. Tony's mothering instincts are different from yours, but just as annoying. And his loyalty to those he considers his friends is astoundingly simple-minded. Unfortunately, his pursuit of me would also be… inconvenient. So…" With one smooth move, Gene pulled a ring off his gauntlet. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, then tossed it in Rhodey's direction.

Caught off guard, the other boy only barely managed to snag the powerful artifact. Dumbfounded, Rhodey turned it over in his hand. "This is…"

"Howard Stark's ring; the one I took from Obadiah Stane. I will _lend_ it to Tony; just until I find the other two, or until he takes over his father's business, whatever comes first. In exchange, he ceases searching for the Makluan rings… and for me."

"Tony's a _hero_, man. If you think you can buy him off…"

"The majority of the Tong and I are leaving New York. A small group will remain here to defend our territory, but they should give Iron Man no trouble. Hence, there is no need for him to involve himself in our affairs any further."

The lab fell silent as Tony's best friend absorbed the Mandarin's words. Rhodey, while not as intuitively quick as Pepper, was not dense either. He knew that for Gene to give up a ring, even temporarily, was an astounding act. Something very powerful had motivated Gene, something hidden behind his nonchalant act. He sifted through the Asian boy's words, trying to ignore the attitude with which they were spoken.

"You're… afraid, aren't you? You just took over an organization run by your step-father for years; there's no way all the Tong are happy about this. You're afraid that Gene Khan's Tomorrow Academy friends will become their targets, so you're leaving the most loyal Tong here and taking the rest away until you can sort it all out. But you know Tony won't just go away, not as himself and not as Iron Man. So…"

Rhodey studied his opposite's face, trying to find a confirmation of his words there. The mask was back in place; Gene just looked bored. Feeling frustrated, Rhodey had a momentary urge to hurl the ring back at the other teen. "This isn't necessary. Tony can take care of himself. You aren't even giving the friendship thing a chance. And _worse_, you expect _me _to somehow explain this to him. If I give him the real reason, he'll just chase after you and if I don't, he's going to be hurt."

The black armored teen heaved a heavy sigh. When the teenaged Mandarin finally spoke, there was no inflection to his tone. Even his natural sarcasm had been muted.

"Stark _can_ take care of himself; but can you, Rhodes? Can Potts? Do you honestly believe whatever temporary pain he feels losing a short-term, false friend will compare to what he will experience if he loses you two? Besides, you are ignoring the very real possibility that my motivations are entirely selfish in nature. I cannot be separated from the purple ring, but its strength is defensive in nature. I _can _lose the others, so would it not make sense for me to hide an offensive powerhouse somewhere where no one else can find it? Safe, where I can retrieve it at any time I wish? Don't attempt to transfer your sentimentality on me, Rhodes. It disgraces us both."

Rhodey stared at the other teen. Every inch the Mandarin, Gene was exuding cold detachment the way Pepper did warmth. Maybe Tony could have seen beyond the mask; deciphered the truth hidden in the words, but Rhodey couldn't. He felt chilled down to the bone. One fist clenched around the Makluan ring in his hand.

Gene gave him one final, calculating look. "In the end, it does not matter what my motives are. You are Tony's best friend. You will do what is necessary to keep him and Pepper from harm. And you are practical enough to know that means keeping him far away from me."

The teenaged Mandarin replaced his helmet and then teleported away in a blinding flash of light. James Rhodes let out a shaking breath. He opened his fist and stared at the green ring contained inside. Gene was right; damn him. Rhodey would do everything in his power to keep his friends from harm, and with Howard's ring he would have enough leverage to persuade Tony against chasing after any more.

Plus, the ring would give Tony hope, just as it gave James hope. Hope that giving it up was the ultimate act of selfless friendship, rather than a calculated security net. Knowing Gene, it could potentially be both, but Rhodey chose to believe the former. The world seemed a little bit brighter that way.

_**Fin**_

_**To be continued, perhaps, someday in a sequel.**_

**A/N: **Thanks so much for your kind attention in reading this to the end. Special thanks for those of you who left reviews! I know the ending leaves something to be desired, but when my mind started playing with this plotline, it plotted it out over several stories. I can't _promise_ to produce the sequels, but I hope to do so someday. Til then, cheers and happy writing to you all!


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